


Process of Elimination

by Ebhenah



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Coughing, Emotional Baggage, Everybody Is an Adult, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Shiro (Voltron), Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, Incorrect assumptions, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith insists it can't be hanahaki, Lance is also not great with feelings, Lance is not straight, M/M, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Prolonged Illness, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Sick Fic, Slow Burn, Space Whale never happened, Space fam - Freeform, Vomiting, altervating pov, cohabitation mentioned, delayed diagnosis, hanahaki, klance, medical imagery, the Lions have actual personalities, the denial is strong in this one, the whole Lotor arc never happened, they've been Paladins for years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebhenah/pseuds/Ebhenah
Summary: After several years splitting his time between Voltron and The Blade of Marmora, Keith is sent to the Castle of Lions with a thick medical file and failing health in the hopes that the 'ancient' database it contains will find some solution to the parasitic plant that has taken root in the young Paladin's lungs. The whole team rallies to find some answers. Discussion keeps looping back to Hanahaki, but it has been ruled out more than once. Keith is insistent that he doesn't fit the criteria. To the others, the solution seems obvious- confess to being in love with Shiro. But Keith knows that he's always seen Shiro as family and his feelings haven't changed. It can't be Hanahaki- he'd know if he was in love with someone! Right?Eventually, he's confined to bed, and the threat of being put in indefinite stasis is looming. When he coughs up an entire blossom, Lance is ready to rush the sample to Coran and Allura in the hopes that it will help identify the culprit... except he recognizes the flower and everything changes.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 314
Collections: VLD Hanahaki Bang





	Process of Elimination

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hanahaki Bang on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/VHanahaki) and [ Tumblr](https://vldhanahakibang.tumblr.com/). Unfortunately, there is no art due to real life issues impacting my paired artist. If they are reading, I hope they enjoy it and know that I hope things improve for them soon!
> 
> My beta for this fic was the lovely [ Lole](https://twitter.com/leandralena), so a big thank-you to her for her efforts.

When he arrived smack dab in the middle of the Castle’s sleep cycle, Coran met him in the hangar. He’d carefully timed his arrival so that he wouldn’t be swamped by everyone. He wanted a chance to rest first. Piloting had begun to really wear him down, and it had been a long trip. He needed as much strength as possible to field all the questions and concerns he knew that his friends would have.

He could avoid Team Voltron with a discreet message to Coran and careful planning. The Lions, on the other hand were a very different story. Before he’d even climbed out of ship the Blade had given him, he could already feel Black’s warm welcome shift to worry, then genuine distress. That was probably a bad sign, all things considered.

More worrisome was that Red, who’d been very carefully distant in the years since Lance had taken over as his Paladin, flared to life in the back of his awareness. Keith could feel the crackle of irritation and concern rolling through the strange liminal space the Paladins and Lions connected in. Red slinked through his thoughts, then curled protectively around Black and his reaction immediately made more sense. He was torn between worry over his former Paladin, and defending Black from whatever had been so upsetting. Red didn’t like that Keith was the source of both at once. Red wasn’t a fan of nuance, really.

“Welcome back, Keith,” Coran gushed, rocking on his feet and plucking Keith’s bag out of his hands. “It’s been too long.”

“It has,” Keith agreed, smiling in what he hoped was reassurance. “It’s good to be home. How is everyone?”

“Good,” he nodded, “everyone is quite well. They’ll be pleased to see you… even if the circumstances are… less than ideal. For now, though… let’s just get you to your quarters so you can rest. You said you had data for me?”

“I do, yes.” He pulled a data stick out of his belt and handed it over, “that’s everything. All the tests, the research, what’s been tried, as complete a medical history as we could piece together.”

“I’ll review this tonight,” Coran promised, “we won’t give up until we get to the bottom of this, my boy. Not every fight happens with swords and bayards, Keith. Some are against ignorance, and we have some of the best brains in the universe on board this Castleship.”

He nodded, doing his very best to believe Coran, “and cryopods.”

“Yes, and in the meantime, we have cryopods. Let’s get you settled in, shall we?”

* * *

Lance was the first one up. He had to be if he wanted to catch Shiro before the others were around. Not that he was sleeping anyway. Not with Red sparking and flaring in his head. Fucker couldn’t give him an explanation, though. Noooo, that would be too easy, and he wouldn’t be the Red Lion if he wasn’t a complete quiznaking **drama queen**!

The only actionable information Lance managed to coax out of the damn fireball, was that in addition to whatever was making him act like a kitten on a bad catnip trip, he was worried- bordering on scared, for Black.

So, he was off to meet Shiro **before** he hit the gym, in the hopes that Black was a tad more open and eloquent than Red… because Lance absolutely could **not** cope with this being the new status quo. He needed his beauty sleep, dammit! He wasn’t a kid anymore!

Which is how he managed to witness Shiro squeal like a little girl and jump a good foot into the air when his bedroom door slide open to reveal, not an empty hallway like he’d been expecting, but his teammate. Admittedly, since he was about to knock on the same door, Lance was pretty much right in Shiro’s face, but it was still funny.

“Quiznak- it’s a good thing I’ve been running those therapeutic programs Pidge tracked down,” Shiro griped, “I could have skewered you, Lance!”

“Yeah, that would have been bad,” he agreed readily, “so maybe take a beat before charging at the door next time?”

“Yeah… sorry… it’s been… a weird night.” Shiro rubbed at the back of his neck with robotic arm.

“Black?” Lance guessed.

“ **Yes!** How did you- oh… Red, too, huh?”

“Red’s worried about Black and freaking out about something. He’s in my head like a firefly on speed. Lots of buzzing, not a lot of information.”

“Black is… fretting, I guess is the best way to describe it. I wonder what’s going on. What could have set off both Black and Red,” he gestured to the hallway and its lack of other sleepless Paladins, “but not the othe- ohhh… shit…”

Lance could practically feel the worry roll off Shiro and in that instant, it felt like he could read his mind. Terror clawed at his chest, ice and fire both at once.

“ **Keith…** ” They said in unison, time stuttering weirdly before they both broke into a run. The easiest way to check in with the Blade of Marmora was through the direct line on the Bridge.

Thankfully, even though they’d transitioned out of the sparse little cell-like rooms they’d initially been given into suites better suited for adults, all of the Paladins still had fast access to the Bridge and its ziplines to the Lions. It wasn’t long at all before Lance was triggering the door, Shiro close at his heels.

“Greetings Paladins,” Coran said distractedly from his station, shutting down whatever weird Altean novel he’d been reading and turning to face them.

“We need to contact Kolivan” insisted Shiro.

“Right away,” Lance tagged on, because Coran sometimes had a very different perception of urgency than they did.

“Keith arrived during the sleep cycle,” Coran said instead, “he is resting in his rooms right now, but I know he plans on joining us for morning briefing.”

Oh, thank God! Relief flooded Lance. It didn’t do much to calm Red down, but at least he wasn’t feeding his own fear and worry into whatever Red was processing. “Was he injured in some kind of fight?”

Coran shook his head, “to the best of my knowledge, Keith hasn’t seen any combat recently, no.”

“Oh good,” Shiro visibly sagged with relief, “so, he’s okay?”

Coran cleared his throat, his hand lifting to twirl his moustache. “As I said, he is planning on being here for the morning briefing. I am not the person to assuage your fears.”

Well, **that** was rather ominous. Lance’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the Altean for some clue of what he might not be saying. He wanted to press for details, but Shiro backed off. Over the years, Lance had gotten better at reading their leader, better at knowing when to challenge his judgement. When it came to Keith, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone who **worried** more about him than Shiro did, so if he was letting the subject drop, there was a reason. Just because Lance wanted to pick Coran up and shake answers out of him didn’t mean that it was really needed.

Morning briefing. That wasn’t that long. They’d get answers then, and since he wasn’t trying to sleep, it was easier to work around the sparking ball of agitation that was his Lion at the moment.

“I should get my workout in,” Shiro said on a sigh, “I suspect the day is going to be a busy one with Keith arriving.”

“That’s not a bad idea- I’m going to hit the pool. Get my daily laps in.” He stretched, following Shiro out the door, “we’ll let you get back to whatever you were working on, Coran. See you at the briefing.”

* * *

Morning briefings had evolved somewhat during their time living in the Castle. They’d started out in a briefing room, with the Alteans, and Shiro taking the lead and felt very official. Now… honestly, it reminded Lance of the most hectic period of his childhood- when he’d finally gotten old enough to stuff his weeks with extra curricular activities and before Luis had moved out. Mornings had been a mess with everyone talking over one another and his sainted parents trying to figure out the best way to handle pick-ups and drop offs and who needed what gear for which commitment. He’d hated it at the time, but now those were some of his fondest memories of his family.

One by one, they all poured into the room adjacent to Hunk’s favorite kitchen (in addition to the little kitchenettes in their suites, the Castle had **fifteen** distinct kitchens- man, Hunk had nearly cried when he’d discovered that!) that served as their ‘breakfast nook’ and found seats. Hunk served up breakfast for everyone and they all reviewed the current intel on the war and the coalition together. Then they brainstormed and debated and argued about priorities and who should go where to do what. It was loud and chaotic. About half the time Pidge and Shiro got into a yelling match. Sometimes Pidge even climbed up onto her chair to assert her dominance. Hunk usually managed to rein them in, though, and then Allura stepped up to mediate.

Today seemed no different. He arrived to find Allura already at the table with a datapad and a mug of the funky-smelling Arusian tea she’d fallen in love with. He crinkled his nose and grabbed a seat at the far end of the table.

“It’s delicious,” she preemptively argued without even glancing up.

“You say the same thing about nunville,” he pointed out, “forgive me for not trusting your tastebuds.”

“Hunk is making crepes and said to tell you that this batch of yogurt is ready.” Now she glanced at him, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “I don’t understand how you can complain about nunville and my tea and not have an issue with the lactated fluid of Kaltenecker that has been deliberately fouled with bacteria.”

“Eww- don’t describe it like that! It makes it sound so gross! This is like the whole ‘eggs’ thing, isn’t it?”

“Eggs: are disgusting,” she insisted, pointing at him, “but I will concede that they are delicious.”

He laughed, relaxing. Allura was good at distracting him when he was worried. She was even better at spotting when he was worrying about something in the first place. “I do love crepes.”

“They are Keith’s favorite. It’s Hunk’s way to welcome him home. He’s sweet like that.”

“Who’s sweet like that?” Hunk asked from the doorway, laden down with several covered dishes balanced on his arms.

“My money is on you, bud.” Pidge appeared out of nowhere, taking one of the smaller dishes and slipping past Hunk.

“That’s a safe bet,” Shiro was right behind her and took the largest of the burdens.

Lance nodded and helped sort out all the dishes on the table, setting the various covers off to one side so they didn’t clutter up their eat-slash-work surface. “Bingo.”

“Awwww, you guys!” Somehow, being called sweet still managed to make Hunk blush even though it was practically a daily occurence. They passed plates and bowls back and forth, dishing up food for everyone, including Coran and Keith who hadn’t arrived yet… which… now that he thought about it, was odd.

They weren’t long, though. By the time all the plates had been set in front of the various seats and all the beverages were poured, Lance could hear the murmur of voices in the hallway. Something cold and heavy settled in his gut. Instinct told him something was wrong. Sure, Keith spent half his time with the Blade, but when he **was** home, he found Shiro before breakfast, or helped Hunk in the kitchen. He didn’t arrive late with Coran. That had never happened.

Something was definitely wrong. Even if he hadn’t had Red going nuts in his head, Lance would have known that.

“Keith!” Pidge sounded stricken, her voice making Lance’s head snap up.

“What the-” Shiro didn’t even finish his exclamation before was on the move, rushing to the door.

“Holy shit,” Lance breathed. He’d been worried, sure, but he hadn’t expected **this**!

When they’d been younger, Keith had been slight, almost delicate. He’d filled out a lot since then, but for the first time in a long time, Lance was reminded of how tiny he’d been when they first started at the Garrison.

“Guys, stop,” Keith said, waving off their concern, but letting Shiro grab his arm and support some of his weight. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“You said he wasn’t hurt!” Lance rounded on Coran, the accusation hanging in the air.

“Lance,” Coran sighed, his expression sad, “I’m sorry, my boy… but I never said that. I said he hadn’t seen combat in some time. It wasn’t my news to share.”

“What happened?”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Guys!” It wasn’t hard to see that Shiro’s reaction was a bit harsher than he’d intended. It was obvious in the way he flinched at his own voice. “Let’s all take a breath and let Keith explain. Alright?”

Keith settled into a seat and, with a bit of effort, shooed Shiro away. “Okay,” he said, his voice level and strong, “so… I guess that it is pretty obvious that I’m sick. I’ve been at a medical facility for a couple of phebes now. It’s… some kind of parasite. No one knows where I picked it up, or how long I’ve had it, really.”

“You’re going to be okay, though right?” Pidge asked, voice cracking. Lance couldn’t look at her. Even if he could tear his eyes away from Keith (which felt impossible) he could tell just from her voice, that she had that big-blinky-eyed look on her face that she got when she talked about her mother… and if he saw her holding back tears, he’d fall apart. Weepy Hunk, he could withstand. Hunk got weepy easily. He’d built up a tolerance to weepy Hunk.

Weepy **Pidge**? Nope.

“Of course he’s going to be okay, Pidge,” Hunk said. There was a slight quaver in his words, but he sounded confident. Hopeful. “We’ve got med pods! Right Allura?”

“The cryopods are always available to the Paladins,” Allura confirmed, worry creeping into her voice despite the authoritative tone and clipped way she spoke.

“Keith?” his own voice cracked, like he was back to being the seventeen year old kid who’d knocked on Blue’s particle barrier. “You **are** going to be okay, right?”

“Uhh…” Keith took a breath, “that’s the plan. The Blade has exhausted everything in their databases. But- no one is giving up yet. They hope- they **think** it is something old. Something that most races have built up an immunity to, but humans haven’t. So-” He was interrupted by his own coughing.

Coran rushed to him, pressing a handkerchief into his hand and rubbing between Keith’s shoulder blades as he hacked. Once the coughing stopped, Keith looked completely wiped out, so Coran took over. “Luckily, the Castle has extensive documentation of microbes, fungi, toxins and other threats to health from all over the known universe. It was comprehensive as of when Allura and I entered cryosleep. We are going to cross-reference the very thorough file that Keith arrived with to eliminate anything that has already been ruled out, and then we will go through what remains- file by file if we have to!”

“And,” said Allura, sounding much more confident, “in the meantime, we are going to make sure that Keith gets top notch care.”

“I can make soup,” Hunk said, “soup is very nutritious and easy to digest. To start… then I can… design a specific menu for Keith. Nutrient dense foods that will help keep his strength up.”

“I’ll work with you guys to write an algorithm to make the search more effective.” Pidge was already opening her laptop and typing, breakfast seemingly forgotten.

“That leaves Lance and I to fill in where needed and focus on keeping you from going stir-crazy,” Shiro smoothed Keith’s hair. “You’re in good hands.”

“Just being home will help you heal,” Lance added, “just you watch.”

* * *

They’d been so optimistic.

It was getting harder to hang on to that hope as more and more possibilities were ruled out. Keith could see it flagging in their eyes whenever he needed some tests to confirm a theory.

Today was no different. Pidge needed a urine sample and to draw some blood so she could check for some kind of enzyme that would indicate a possible metabolic condition. She’d gotten good at practical labwork over the last few weeks, her hands moving with efficient confidence. “You need to tell Shiro,” she said as she switched out little vacuum tubes.

“Tell him what?” he asked, confused.

“That you’re in love with him. That this is hanahaki.” She locked her eyes on his, “you’re coughing up petals, Keith. We can see the plants on the scans.”

“It’s not hanahaki, Pidge,” he argued, “I’m not in love with **anyone**. It just… looks like hanahaki.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday. Nothing else fits.”

“Something **must** fit, because I am not in love with anyone, and that’s… kind of important for the whole hanahaki theory.”

“Whatever you say, Keith,” she sighed, “We’ll keep looking… but… please… seriously consider telling Shiro.”

“I’m not in love with Shiro,” he insisted, “Pidge, I swear. I’m not. This isn’t hanahaki. We’ve already ruled out hanahaki. It’s something else.”

She hummed, and he thought he saw something spark in her eyes, but she let it drop. It didn’t take her long to finish with the little vials and flash heal the broken skin with the dermal accelerator. Just like always, his pale skin showed no sign of the procedure. It was a little eerie, really. He didn’t like not being able to **see** any trace of all the tests and procedures- it just added to the weird surrealness that made this whole thing feel like a nightmare. Closing his eyes, he reminded himself that no one was giving up and that there were still lots of options. He counted slowly as he drew a slow, steady breath in, held it, and let it out again.

With a practiced kick, Pidge launched her floating seat across the room. There were a few clinks, letting him know she’d fed all the little vials into the equipment and started the process of running the tests. Another thump told him she was on her way back, and if she remained true to form, she was holding a datapad with his schedule on it. “So, we’re all done here,” she said, “which means… Lance should be arriving any minute to bring you down to the pool.”

Once upon a time, he’d enjoyed heading to the pool. Eventually, he’d even enjoyed hitting the pool with Lance. They’d spend an hour or so doing laps, racing each other in the water. Then they’d spend another hour just relaxing and joking around. It had been fun. It was probably one of the things that had really cemented their transition from teammates to friends.

Now though? He hated it. It wasn’t about competition or fun anymore. It was all about strengthening his lungs. The pressure from the water made him work harder to breathe, which Coran insisted he needed to be doing daily to build up muscle mass. The pressure from the water also combined with the moisture in the air to make him cough. A lot.

Coran also wanted him to try and clear as much ‘debris’ from his lungs as possible. He didn’t want to go in surgically until they knew what they were dealing with. The Blade had ruled out any risk of contagion from the mangled bits of petals he coughed up, but no one knew what would happen in a surgical situation. So, for the time being, he was responsible for making as much room in his lungs as he could manage.

The Lance he remembered from when they’d first arrived in space would have been willing to slack off. He’d been young, easily distracted, always ready to goof around. That was not the Lance that showed up everyday to drag Keith to the pool, though. Grown-up Lance was still quick with a joke and loved to remind everyone of the importance of fun… but he was also dedicated and driven, and he’d learned a level of focus that Keith would have thought was impossible back then. He was still stubborn as a mule, but now he seemed to have figured out when to apply that trait to make it infuriatingly effective. Nowadays, there was no convincing him to slack off- not when what they were doing was something he’d deemed important… and Keith’s medical orders fell firmly in the realm of ‘important’.

All of those factors combined to mean ‘pool time’ was his least favorite part of the day.

It wasn’t a secret.

“Don’t make that face,” Pidge grumbled, “do you **really** want to risk whatever Coran would come up with to serve the same purpose as the pool? Really?”

“Yeah- fair point.” Carefully, he sat up, ignoring the little burst of light-headedness and weirdly sodden feeling in his chest. “Who knows what kind of bizarre thing he’d come up with.”

“Oh! Before you go!” Pidge handed him a little box, “it’s a remote blood oxygen saturation sensor. Just a prototype, so don’t use it at the pool… but since your lungs are affected…”

“It makes sense to monitor how well they are doing their job,” he sighed, resigned. She nodded, patting him on the knee in sympathy. “I know, I know… it’s far too soon to get discouraged. We’ve got the best brains in the universe working on this. No one is going to give up until I am better. Right?”

“Almost- and until that happens, we’ve got the med pods. We are **not** losing you, Keith. I refuse. Got it?”

“Yeah. I got it.”

* * *

“You’re looking a little pale, Mullet… need a break from the water?” Lance rolled his shoulders, trying to shed some of the tension that had taken up residence in his neck and upper back. He suspected he’d started grinding his teeth in his sleep, because Red refused to calm the fuck down about Keith and Black. It was kind of unnerving how worried Red was about Black, actually, and he still hadn’t gotten used to it.

The waterline covered his mouth, so Lance wasn’t surprised when Keith just glared at him through stringy gaps in his black hair rather than say anything. How he managed to have his wet hair stuck to his face like that without wanting to claw his face off, Lance would never understand.

“Dude, don’t cop attitude with me! I’m just doing a job here. It could be Shiro in this pool with you, you know that right? I’ve worked out with Shiro. I know for a fact I’m not as demanding as Shiro. He’d have you doing laps right now or something.”

“He wouldn’t,” Keith muttered once he lifted his head, “he’s too freaked out. It’s making him baby me. I hate it.”

“I haven’t seen much ‘babying’ going on Keith, maybe you’re just extra sensitive to it or something?” He followed Keith to the little ladder that led out of the pool and stayed close enough to help if Keith needed it.

“He’s not doing it around you guys. Anytime it’s just us, he turns into a mother hen. It’s infuriating. I’m not a kid.” Rubbing a towel over his hair, Keith sat on the deck. When he moved to wipe his face, his hair was… very reminiscent of the tumbleweeds Lance had seen in the desert back on earth.

Lance rubbed at his eyes, sitting beside him, and making the choice not to mention the ridiculous poof of Keith’s hair. He needed a little humor in his life, okay? Keith complaining was setting Red off and god damn, he really needed a break from the anxious Lion. He was stressed out about Keith enough all on his own- he didn’t need Red turning their connection into some kind of adrenaline pipeline. He could barely remember what life was like without this ‘mainlining coffee 24/7’ feeling gnawing at him. Actually… shit… “Uhh… that might not be Shiro’s fault.”

“So, what? It’s **mine**?!?!? I didn’t get sick on purpose, Lance! I just want him to be normal with me!”

“Nononono! That’s not what I meant! I meant… it might be Black… like… spilling over.”

“What!?!” Keith blinked at him.

He shrugged, “I dunno what Black is **like** , but Red is driving me fucking **nuts** and I know that the night you got here Black kept Shiro up.”

“Red is driving you nuts? Why is Red driving you nuts?”

“He’s worried about you, idiot,” Lance gaped at him. “Did you seriously not know that Red and Black are worried about you?!? The hell, Keith! Annnd, on top of that, Red’s all in a tizzy about Black!”

“No… well… kinda? I mean, the night I got here, I felt them… but I haven’t really since then.” He looked puzzled, and Lance could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Well, they are. It is seriously annoying- Red is like…” he trailed off, because there were no words. Instead he tried to convey it by flinging his arms wide, eyes bugging out .

Keith gave a snort of laughter, “yeah, I remember. All sparks and bluster… like trying to use a flint and steel to light a fire. Black’s more… yeah… like… umm… Kind of like Hunk actually.”

“So, mother hen seems to fit.” Lance shrugged, “maybe cut Shiro a little slack then? Because… oh. My. God, Keith. This whole worrywort Lion thing? Nightmare… and he’s not doing it in front of everyone else soooo...”

“Black knows I’m not a kid,” Keith grumbled.

“Does he? Does he really? Because… Alteans live for ages… Coran’s what? Seven hundred or something? And the Castle was built **for** the Lions, which Allura’s father built… so… he was like, already King when that happened. I have no idea about the other Paladins, but how many Galra have we encountered that Coran remembers from before?”

“What are you getting at, Lance?”

“Compared to most of the alien races we’ve met, humans have a super short lifespan. Kolivan made a comment once about how their pet cats live longer than us… which was **harsh** but, you know… Kolivan, so I was prepared for that. It’s not completely out there that Black sees all of us as… babies… or… cubs, I guess.”

“Whatever… I’ll… I dunno, go hang out with Black for a while, I guess. Maybe that will make him back off of Shiro for a bit.” He did that little signature-Keith-pouty-face that no one had the heart to tell him just made him look ten and not at all badass and dangerous like they suspected he thought was the effect. The pout drew Lane’s attention to the fact that his lips had taken on a bluish cast but Lance couldn’t tell if it was because he was chilled after being in the pool, or if his breathing was screwed up.

“Well, if you are planning some quality robo-kitty time, think you can pencil in a sesh with Red? He’s being a serious pain in the ass.” Flashing Keith a charming smile, he poked him in the shoulder, “and you need to start coughing.”

“Are you fucking with me right now? The coughing always wears me out. I just wanna chill out for a bit!” The plaintive look Keith shot him was almost enough to make him cave. Almost.

“Sorry Samurai, if I don’t make you take care of yourself, they’ll replace me for pool duty… and you know what that means. Besides,” he decided not to be too specific, opting to try to keep the mentions to Keith’s health as vague as he could. “I think you really need to clear some space in there- you’re almost as skinny as Pidge now.”

Keith screwed his face up, nailing Lance’s shoulder with a jab that still packed a punch, but was a pale shadow of the force Lance associated with even playful, joking blows from Keith. He’d never understood the expression ‘wasting away’ until Keith got sick. “It’s so gross,” he muttered, cheeks flushing. He gave a half-hearted little cough that reminded Lance of his mother trying to get his father to change the subject when he got started talking about crop rotation at parties. A polite little huff of air that did absolutely nothing.

“You know what’s gross? Nunville. You know how often I see Coran drink that shit? All the damn time. Know what else is gross? Cleaning up after Kaltenacker,” he shuddered, “sooooo gross. You cough up flower petals, dude. That’s literally the least gross thing you could be coughing up. We do this every day, Keith. I get that you **hate** being reminded that you are sick, but dem’s the breaks- and there is no way you’d let any of us pull the shit you are trying to pull.”

“I hate when you make sense.”

This cough was stronger, harsher. It sounded like gravel catching in his throat, and the inhale at the end of it whistled slightly. Lance kept his face neutral through sheer force of will and practice born of years of playing poker with Pidge on the regular. Because that shit sounded like it hurt. It did the job though. The familiar flash of fear in Keith’s eyes told him that- and sure enough, he’d barely gasped in enough air to expand his lungs before the next cough hit. Loud, barking, and sudden- it somehow sounded worse than when Nadia had croup, which Lance would have thought was impossible until that very moment.

After a couple more of those sharp, painful-sounding coughs, Keith did that thing… the thing he did when the coughing changed from annoying to exhausting. Hands cupped over his mouth and nose, he **tipped** falling against Lance’s chest. Automatically, Lance caught him… and damn he was thin… frail. Without even thinking about it, Lance began thudding his hand against Keith’s back. Allura had taught them all how to help make Keith’s efforts to clear his lungs more effective, and Lance didn’t even have to think about it anymore.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

He tried not to think about how much more **hollow** it used to sound when he did this. He tried not to think about how tiny Keith felt in his arms. He tried not to think about how long he’d already been sick, or how the only progress they’d made was to rule things out- which was great, but didn’t really **do** anything to help Keith!

Right now, Lance was a caregiver, not a friend or teammate. His job was to help, and it didn’t benefit anyone for him to get caught up in how worried he was, how helpless he felt… and it ran the very real risk of making Red and Black worse, not to mention upsetting or even driving off, Keith. He could hear how the coughs changed, going from hoarse and hollow to wet and productive sounding and eventually to weak and wheezy. He pretended not to notice the hot tears that hit his chest, or the faint little tremor that worked its way through Keith’s frame.

He’d be okay.

He had to get better.

He was…

It was just impossible that he wouldn’t, okay?

Because…

Because he was **Keith** and Keith beat the odds. Keith pulled it off at the last possible second. It’s the way he rolled.

So, he’d be fine, but not until he’d scared everyone else into some big dramatic thing. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered, suspecting that he needed the reassurance of hearing that outloud almost as much as Keith did. “But until you are, I’m here… we’re all here for you…”

* * *

‘Robo-kitty quality time’, as Lance had coined it, was interesting. He could see what Lance was talking about with Red being ‘all in a tizzy’ because of Black- Red had always been intense and prickly, but this was a whole new level. It made it difficult for Keith to connect to what was technically **his** current Lion, at least not to the extent that he was used to.

Red was just… there, ready to jump in without warning whenever he felt like Keith was upsetting Black. He could feel him prowling around the outskirts of that liminal space that he’d started thinking of as a kind of psychic common ground for the Lions and the Paladins. Lurking. Ready to intervene if needed.

Sure, Black was upset. Technically it was because of him. But, it wasn’t like he **wanted** to be dyin- **sick**! Still, he tried to focus on Black and just let Red do his thing. It was always strange to interact with the Lions outside of piloting situations. He wasn’t sure if the original Paladins and Allura found it surreal, or if it was just humans… hell, he wasn’t positive it wasn’t exclusive to him, but either way, it was strange. The way realities layered over each other was odd and disconcerting.

Being stretched out on the cool metal of Black’s massive paw in a hangar, while simultaneously feeling the warm weight of the big cat against his back was not something he was ever going to get used to. Black’s muzzle nudged his shoulder and he was treated to the Paladin-specific mind-fuckery that was being groomed like a cub by a worried astral Lion.

_Okay, okay… I get it. I miss you, too! I’m sorry I’m scaring you, big guy! You gotta give Shiro a break, though. Alright? I promise to come hang out every day or so if you do._

Hot breath huffed against his face- indignant- followed by a nudge from the low slope of Black’s forehead. It was strong enough to knock him over, his hands clutching reflexively at the thick, shaggy fur of the Lion’s mane. He could feel the familiar heat of a desert sun beating down on them, and the air- or whatever his mind was interpreting as air- felt hot and dry. It was all shockingly vivid and physical for a non-corporal ‘mindspace’ (thanks for that terminology, Coran).

Black pushed him around a little with his paws and then with a heaving groan, lay down **on** him. He got the distinct impression that his Lion had no intention of letting him leave anytime soon.

_This isn’t going to actually be able to protect me, you know. I need to go to the medbay and the fucking pool and shit. I can’t just… stay here._

Apparently, Black disagreed with that assessment, as he simply shifted his weight until he was more comfortable, and somehow lay down **more** than he had been.

 _Ugh- you’re heavy!_ He thudded the flat of his hand against Black’s ribs, _c’mon… you need to let me up… what’s going to happen to my body if I stay here?_

Black yawned, tongue lolling out. Vague, abstract memories of Black containing Shiro’s essence within him filling Keith’s mind.

 _What?!?!_ He yelped, thumping harder. _That’s a terrible plan! We can’t get them to **clone** me and then just… let my body die!_

Red roared a warning, and for a second, Keith thought that was the end of the discussion. He genuinely worried that he’d be stuck in this mindspace as his body wasted away to nothing.

Instead, a strong, burning impulse to roll seared its way through him a split second before Red barrelled into Black’s side, dislodging his weight from Keith. Sounds he recognized for a childhood of watching nature documentaries echoed in his ears as he crashed back into his own body again with a gasp.

Immediately, he started coughing..

His mouth filled with plant bits shockingly fast. He barely managed to spit them out before he dragged in a ragged breath and started hacking again.

This was, he suspected, the kind of result Coran had been hoping for when he’d pushed for Keith to cough more and clear space- because more plant bits spilled out of his mouth.

He was coughing too hard and fast to even think about clearing them away, barely managing to gasp in a whiff of air before he was choking on more again. He shook and swayed, suddenly light-headed, but the coughing didn’t slow down. His chest burned, his throat was screaming in pain, raw and angry from the abuse.

Humans weren’t meant to have flowers move through their trachea, after all.

Hands limp at his sides, the little sensor he’d been given just that morning blinked red, the little light flickering. That, he guessed, was a bad sign.

His head swam. It was hard to hang on to a thought, but he was vaguely aware that Red and Black had shifted from their scuffle to concern, which quickly bypassed worry and fear and landed squarely on **panic**.

Blood dribbled down his chin and the air was filled with the scent of copper and unfamiliar flowers. Still, the coughing didn’t stop. Above him, Black, shifted, metal creaking as the massive robot Lion shook its head and opened its jaws in a sound Keith didn’t even know it could make.

If the little blinking light hadn’t already alerted the others that there was trouble, that would have done it.

Sparks danced in his vision and he could feel consciousness slipping away, flowers clogging up his throat and mouth.

“Keith!”

That sounded kinda like…

Strong arms scooped him up, cradling him against a warm chest. His eyes were too heavy to open, but the hand that moved his face around was gentle.

“Holy shit! **Keith! Breathe!!** ”

Lance.

That was Lance.

Long, slender fingers swept into his mouth, clearing vegetation away.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon… breathe, buddy. Breathe for me!”

He gagged as stuff was pulled out of his throat. Another voice joined the first, familiar and scared. Something pressed into his face and a blast of cool, minty air forced its way down his throat.

“Medbay! Now!” Was the last thing he registered before everything went black.

* * *

“Lance,” Allura squeezed his shoulder, “there’s nothing you can do here. You need to sleep.”

“Can’t sleep with Red like this, so I might as well be here,” he answered, shifting in his seat.

“You should at least try. We both know that Keith doesn’t appreciate hovering.” Her hand moved to tip his face up to hers, blue eyes to blue eyes. Her pupils were a pretty lavender color, and idly he wondered how that actually **worked** because it felt like they should still be black if Altean eyes functioned the way humans’ did.

Maybe they didn’t though. Maybe Alteans saw like bees did, or something completely alien (ha- pun) to the point that he couldn’t even fathom it.

“Lance?” She sounded worried.

“Huh?”

“I asked when the last time you ate was,” she sighed, rubbing her face, “never mind. I’ll bring you some goo.”

“Sorry- I didn’t mean to zone out on you. I’m just… You didn’t see him…”

“No, I didn’t, but what I did see was awful enough. We are doing everything that we can, Lance. You have to know that.”

“I do,” he replied, reaching out to catch one of her hands and giving it a squeeze. “I’m just spooked. He was… well, not **fine** at the pool, but not so much sicker that it scared me. I told him to go hang with Black, and then the next time I saw him… he was dying. That’s what I saw, right? He was dying. If Shiro hadn’t shown up with that mask…”

“I will not lie to you, Lance. So, please be careful what you ask.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought. So, I saw my friend almost die and it shook me up. I’m not leaving. Not until he’s awake.”

“Alright. Scoot over. Make some room on that chair- you’re still skinny enough to share.”

He did as she asked, moving over to the edge of the seat. She joined him, one arm wrapping around the small of his back for stability and rested her head on his shoulder. Once upon a time, this kind of casual affection from the Princess would have set his heart soaring. Now, it didn’t feel all that different from cuddling up to Hunk when they were stressed and homesick.

His arm found its way around her shoulders and he gave her a good squeeze. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“I worry for him, too. We all do. I have no doubts that the others will be joining us shortly.”

Currently, Keith was in a cryopod. The Altean tech was assessing and addressing as much of the damage as it was able, but it kept throwing out error messages because it couldn’t deal with the plants. Coran had told them that he would be released as soon as his physical state was stable, but he wouldn’t be cured of whatever was doing this to him.

Hopefully, he’d be well enough to go back to the way things were before whatever the hell had happened in the hangar… but Coran said there was a chance he’d be too fragile for that level of activity. He warned that Keith might be bed ridden until… until they found a cure. A real one.

As usual, Allura was right. One by one the others found their way to the medbay. Pidge came loaded down with blankets and pillows that she handed out to everyone. Hunk, when he arrived, brought snacks and a thermos of something warm and possibly boozy to pass around. Coran brought datapads that linked up to the archives so they could read or research depending on if they needed to feel productive or be distracted.

Shiro was last to arrive, his eyes red-rimmed and face pale. Worry was etched into every line of his face, and there was a shakiness to his movements that betrayed just how frightened he was for his best friend. Pidge took one look at him and shuffled away from where she’d been leaning against Hunk, patting the floor between them. Wordlessly, he wedged himself into place and they both wrapped their blankets around him. Allura held out the thermos and scowled at Shiro until he finished the whole thing.

“He’s going to be okay,” Hunk whispered, leaning against Shiro.

“Even if we need to put him in stasis while we figure it out, we’re not going to lose Keith,” Pidge insisted, “not gonna happen.”

“Thanks guys,” Shiro answered, his voice hollow.

“You saved him, man,” Lance spoke up. “Whatever made you think to grab that rescue mask… it saved him. We’re not letting that be for nothing.”

“Keith’s family. I am not losing another family member,” Allura insisted, eyes flashing. Never had her royal blood been more obvious, because she said that like she was issuing a decree and had every expectation that the universe would just… heed it. “So he’s going to be fine. We’ve already adjusted course- I’m seeking guidance at Oriande.”

“Family,” Coran echoed, reaching out to pat Shiro’s knee.

* * *

It was Allura that caught him when the pod opened. Warm, strong hands wrapping around him and steadying him as he shivered against her. Within seconds, blankets already toasty from body heat got thrown over his shoulders, wrapped around Allura and tugged into place. His slightly-better-than-human nose picked up the scents of all of them, layered in the wool-scent and overriding the fragrance of ozone and alien chemicals.

He braced for a group hug and spirited jostling that never came, and that, more than anything, told him that the situation was bad. This was not a group of people that treated one another gingerly.

“Let’s get you to your quarters,” Allura said gently, bumping her head against his in a way that reminded him of Black.

“Yer’not going to pin me to the bed are you?” he asked blearily.

Everyone went still and quiet for a long moment. Finally, Coran cleared his throat, “what was that, Keith?”

“Like Black,” he explained, clearing his throat, “so I wouldn’t leave… he like… laid on me… pinned me down…”

“The Black Lion pinned you to the ground? In the hangar?” Coran repeated.

“Coran?” Pidge sounded scared, “did we… miss… could he have had a stroke?”

Allura changed her stance, pulling him a little more upright. Bright, blue-tinged light shone in his eyes, making him flinch back and bat at Coran’s hand, “ow!”

“Pupils reacting within normal range,” he mumbled.

“Hey, Keith- buddy… do you know where you are?” Lance asked, stepping into his line of vision. His expression was a stiff mask of cheerful concern, eerie in how false it seemed.

“Medbay?” he guessed, not really sure why everyone was so worried all of a sudden.

“Yeah- and you know who all is here, right?”

“Yes… what’s wrong?”

“Probably nothing buddy, but humor me okay? What’s my name?”

“Lance- this isn’t funny.”

The relief that washed over his friend’s features was profound. “Yep, that’s me. So… ummm… you wanna explain what you said? About Black?”

“Oh… you said to visit… Black wanted me to stay… with him… in the astral plane… pinned me down…”

Lance blinked at him, long lashes fluttering as he tried to process that, or something. “Wait… ohhhh… **that’s** what Red was in a snit about?”

He nodded, relieved that he was making sense again. “They fought.”

“I think this conversation can be tabled until we get Keith situated in his quarters, don’t you?” Allura said pointedly, adjusting her grip on him.

“Sorry, Princess,” Lance flashed a smile at him and reached out to mess up his hair, “after you.”

He hadn’t realized just how far his quarters were from the medbay until he had to make the trek with wobbley legs and the entire population of the Castle trailing along behind him. There was a minor stand-off once he triggered the door- Allura wanted to put him to bed like a child, and he’d insisted on staying in the den. Finally Shiro intervened with the compromise of settling him on the couch with pillows and blankets. He wasn’t the biggest fan of that idea, because he was **fine** , relatively speaking. Obviously, he was, otherwise the pod wouldn’t have let him out in the first place. It was virtually impossible to say no to Shiro when he made **that** face, though.

By the time they were done with him he felt like a burrito. Six blankets tucked tight around his legs and torso was overkill as far as he was concerned, but he was outnumbered- by a lot.

“I’m going to put on some soup,” Hunk announced, already on the move to Keith’s small kitchen. “It will help you shake off that chill!”

“Not sure the chill stands much of a chance against all these blankets, big guy,” he pointed out.

Seated on the floor behind his recessed couch, Pidge reached down and smacked his knee, glaring at him, “you’re going to eat the soup and you’re going to like it!”

“Geez! Whatever!”

“You gave us quite a fright, Keith,” Shiro pointed out, “you’re going to have to deal with us hovering for a bit.”

“Oh… right…” The memory was hazy, but he was pretty sure he’d been coughing… and then Lance… and maybe Shiro? The details escaped him. “It was bad, huh?”

Shiro went pale and then nodded, once, turning away to go help Hunk.

“You’re okay now,” Lance said, voice oddly wooden, “that’s the important thing.”

From her perch on the edge of the couch near his ankles, Allura watched Lance pace. Her white brows drew together in concern, but she made no move to go to him. He got the impression she’d decided it was futile.

It was so easy, when he was away, to think of them all as being in a kind of stasis. Easy to imagine that nothing changed during his absence. In a way, that was true. The team was the team. They had each other’s backs. They were unfailingly brave and hard-working and compassionate. Pidge would always work too hard. Shiro would always shoulder too much responsibility. Hunk would always make sure they took care of themselves, and Lance would always be the one reminding them to take some time off and unwind. Allura and Coran would always be ready to teach about some new culture or old technology, always be eager to learn more about Earth, always keep them grounded in their new reality. That stuff was constant and stable.

But, at the same time. People changed. They grew and adapted to their environment. The most obvious change was Pidge who had gone from a gangly fourteen year old to a toned and wiry adult, almost the same height as he was when they’d first ended up here. The others looked pretty much the same as always- Hunk’s hair was long enough that he often tied it back now, Allura’s was shorter and most often styled in a french braid, Lance sported a small scar through his eyebrow, Shiro had been through a few versions of his roboarm- but it had still been years. Years of growing and learning. Years of relying on one another and working together and living as a unit. That time changed things.

Some of those changes happened while he was away, slow and subtle enough that he might not notice in the short bursts of time he usually spent with them. Now he’d been around long enough that the novelty of his presence had started to wear off, and worry over him was bringing different things to light. Allura never used to look at Lance like that- eyes soft and filled with worry and understanding. Pidge never used to give a shit who ate when. Shiro never used to pull back like that, or gravitate to wherever Hunk was when he was stressed.

He knew these people. His voltron family. He loved them. But they were changing in ways he hadn’t realized, and it made him wonder what else he’d missed out on. It made him wonder how different he seemed to them.

“Soup,” Shiro announced, steering one of those hovering trays over to the couch, “Lance? Help him sit up?”

“Sure thing, Shiro!” Lance helped keep him steady as he leaned forward then fluffed and pushed at the pillows until he was satisfied that they would do the job. The tray was pushed into place and he was handed a spoon.

“Should be just the right temp to eat,” Hunk offered helpfully.

“Thanks Hunk,” he said, pushing the food around with his spoon, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“All I did was heat up one of the soup packs I put in your freezer, Keith. It was nothing, buddy.”

“Still… I appreciate it. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Hunk smiled at him. Hunk’s smile’s were kind of magical. They were so reassuring and hopeful that it was hard to believe anything bad could happen while you were looking at them.

“Well, there’s no point in delaying this conversation,” Coran said, attracting everyone’s attention. “Despite our best efforts, Keith is clearly getting worse. Allura, as most of you know, has elected to return to Oriande to seek guidance from the White Lion. In the meantime, we will continue our efforts to find answers in the archives.”

“Sounds reasonable,” he said, fighting the wave of fear he felt building in his gut. Shiro must have heard it in his voice though, because he squeezed his shoulder softly.

“I’m glad you think so, my boy. But I’m afraid you are not going to like this next part. Obviously, Allura and I are the most fluent in Altean, but we need to be splitting our time between research and actually manning the bridge. The next most effective researchers are Pidge and Hunk, so going forward, that will be their primary focus. Shiro will be taking over the majority of hands on medical assessments and testing.”

“Still making a lot of sense, Coran… I’m not sure why you think I would be-”

“Today’s incident has proven that it is no longer safe for you to be alone in the Castleship, Keith. Until we can stabilize your health, we cannot risk you having another coughing fit like that one.”

“Ohhhh… No **quiznacking** way! I do not need a babysitter!” Anger churned through him, “that’s what the sensor thing is for!”

“I’m sorry, my dear, dear boy, I truly am,” Coran sighed, shoulders sagging, “but the ship is simply too large. I don’t think you grasp how rapidly you deteriorated today. It was far too close a call to risk repeating. So, for the foreseeable future, you have the option of being confined to the medbay, or having a companion with you at all times.”

“Shiro! Tell him this is overkill!”

“Keith,” Shiro looked stricken, “this was my idea. It took so long to get you from the hangar to the medbay… and we’d wasted so much time getting **to** you in the first place… it’s just… too dangerous.”

“No. No! I refuse. I can do that, right? I can refuse medical advice?”

Everyone looked everywhere but at him. After a moment Allura cleared her throat, “may I please speak with Keith alone?”

Pidge opened her mouth like she was going to argue, but whatever she saw in Allura’s eyes seemed to change her mind. “C’mon guys… hallway.”

“This shouldn’t take long,” Allura assured them as they filed out.

“I know my rights,” he muttered to the Princess as the door slid shut.

“I understand,” she said patiently. “I don’t think you understand what the alternative is, so I am going to lay it out for you. Bluntly, because I know you appreciate that. Yes?”

“Fine,” he fought the urge to roll his eyes at her, because he knew it was a childish impulse brought on by fear.

“Earlier today, your vitals crashed. It was a matter of ticks between you being in a safe range and the oxygen supply to your brain being all but cut off. Two of your closest friends found you covered in plants, bleeding from the mouth, and not breathing at all. Shiro had the foresight to bring a rescue mask with him that kept you alive as they raced you to the medbay, where you were put into a cryopod.” She cleared her throat, “I then witnessed my entire team, my whole family, sit together in terror as our technology struggled to restore you to a stable state. If you do not accept supervision, that scenario **will** repeat itself. Perhaps this next time, there will be a delay. Perhaps the rescue mask will be insufficient. Perhaps it will play out exactly the same way again. You will be rushed to the medbay and put in a cryopod. We will do everything in our power to restore you to stability again. It will be a traumatic crisis for everyone you love. We will sit vigil and watch the pod do its work. During that time- no one will be helming the ship. No one will be researching a way to help you. Reality will condense itself into the small space around the pod that holds you. Then we will bustle you back here, or, more likely, to a convalescence suite, and go over the plan once again while reassuring ourselves that we have not, in fact, lost someone we love. We might even have to resort to surgery- taking the gamble that helping you doesn’t put the rest of us at risk for whatever it is that is making you so ill. All of that time will be wasted. All of the distress will wear down on the people you are relying on to help you.”

“Allura-”

She held up her hand, eyes steely, “or, perhaps, one of those tiny, minor issues I mentioned might arise. Perhaps I will have to try to stitch your soul back into a damaged, weak, dying body. Perhaps I will have to wrestle it away from your Lion- who seems to be much more aware of just how fragile your grasp on life is than we were, despite all of our tests and equipment. Perhaps,” she choked, clearing her throat and he thought he saw the glitter of unshed tears in her eyes, “perhaps…. I will fail, and have to tell them that you are beyond my help. Perhaps- and this is actually the most likely scenario, Keith, so please seriously consider what this means- perhaps we will put you in the cryopod and our only alternative will be to resort to stasis until we find a solution. I want you think about what that will mean, for you… but also for everyone else. I am very sorry. I truly wish I could be uplifting and hopeful, but I know you don’t want false hope. Correct?”

“No,” his voice broke, the reality of the situation sinking in, “I… I don’t want false hope.”

“Good,” she nodded once, stiff and imperious. Then, tentatively, she reached for his hand, and when he grasped hers, she let out a soft, strangled sob, “Keith, please. No one wants to see any of that. Please, just let us watch over you. We’re your friends, your family, surely having one of us with you won’t be such a terrible hardship.”

“You really think it will make that much of a difference?”

“I do,” she nodded, “the evidence is… significant. Today showed us that even a few ticks of wasted time could be… catastrophic.”

He glared at her, turning the words over in his mind. It was hard to stay angry when she was so obviously distraught, though. As badly as he wanted to be independent, it wasn’t worth hurting the people he considered family like that. “Alright,” he croaked, eyes drifting shut, “okay. Fine. I agree to the babysitter.”

“Companion.”

“Babysitter.”

“I suppose the title matters little,” she sighed, wiping at her eyes with her free hand, “thank-you Keith. I know this is very difficult for you. It would chafe my pride, as well.”

* * *

“Today was better,” Lance said cheerfully, forcing himself to be encouraging.

Keith scowled at him, “I spent as much time hacking up petals and shit as I did in the pool.”

“Yeah, I know- that’s the whole point, remember? To clear space in your lungs. So you can breathe better.”

“Lance, knock it off.” He looked so tired. It did bad things to Lance’s heart to see Keith so… run down.

“Alright, detour time. C’mon.” He took Keith by the shoulders, turning him down a corridor.

“Where are we going? Lance, I don’t have the patience for this nonsense.” He grumbled, but he didn’t shrug Lance’s hands off, and he didn’t stop walking, so Lance took that as a good sign.

“We are going to head to the rec room, and we are going to pretend for a bit that you have a chest cold and play some fucking billiards.”

“Billiards?” That earned him something close to a smile, “alien billiards?”

“Nope- **Earth** billiards! I mean, seriously Keith- it is a math based game… It was pretty much inevitable that Hunk and Pidge would build a billiards table at some point. Did you really think they wouldn’t?” he asked, incredulous.

“Well after their attempt to make an air hockey table exploded, I figured Shiro would put a stop to recreational projects like that.” He could be imagining the slight spring in Keith’s step, but he doubted it. He’d never met a delinquent that couldn’t play pool or billiards or one of its variants… and Keith had **absolutely** been a delinquent. Plus, the Garrison had billiards tables in the common rooms.

“It’s sticks, a table with holes and tubes, and balls, Keith,” he laughed, “what the quiznack is going to **explode**?? Also- I think you underestimate just how **bored** Shiro gets out here!”

“I… guess I never really think about it. The boredom thing, I mean.”

Lance shrugged, which was kind of dumb, because Keith couldn’t really see him, since they were facing the same direction and Lance was still steering the guy down the hall with both arms braced on his shoulders. “Standard operating procedure, Voltron edition goes- arrrrgh crisis! Fight fight fight! Whew, that was close. Boring meeting about the fight. Boring meeting about diplomacy stuff. Training. Some more training. Wait for the next crisis. Basically, we are either in a total panic, or bored out of our minds.”

“Huh… never looked at it like that before.”

“Well, that’s how it is- not all of us have discovered a whole new trunk of family tree to learn about. We just have… this… and Coran’s stories about Alfor.”

“He… definitely has a lot of those.” That was a laugh! A real, genuine, Keith Kogane laugh!

Lance felt like he’d just wiped out a robeast! He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d heard Keith laugh, and for the last five days, he’d been Keith’s freaking shadow. “He does… and they are starting to get borderline inappropriate. Allura just up and leaves whenever he starts now. No one wants to hear that stuff about their Dad and Coran, man. They… were… umm… a little wild at her age!”

“Wild?? Wild how? What kind of wild?”

“Oooh, look at you! Angling for gossip! Who’da thunk it?! Well, you have come to the right person, my friend!” His speculations and theories about Coran and young ‘Prince Alfor’ carried them all the way to the rec room… and not a moment too soon. He could feel Keith’s breathing growing labored under his hands, hear the wheeze that had crept into it.

“You weren’t kidding,” Keith whispered, “billiards!”

“Would I lie to you? Don’t answer that! Just… tada! Billiards. Now, sit,” he pointed at a row of hovering stools that hugged a little island, while he dug through the fridge, “I’m getting us drinks. What do you want? We’ve got some Galran ale, or… umm… Hunk’s homebrew not-quite-cider… Oh! This stuff! It’s… actually, I don’t know what the fuck it is, but it is tasty and not too strong. Kinda like… an energy drink, I guess?”

“I should probably avoid booze,” Keith said, fiddling with the sensor that monitored his blood oxygen levels.

“Mystery drink it is then!” he announced, pouring them both a glass. Neither of them acknowledged that he was just buying Keith time to catch his breath and regroup. Neither of them mentioned the way his hand shook a little when he accepted the glass. They’d gotten good at that- ignoring the fact that he was sick. Pretending that he wasn’t wasting away and growing weaker almost by the hour.

They didn’t need to talk about it. They all knew… and besides, Lance knew for a fact that Shiro was making Keith talk about it. He knew, because Black was the one pushing at Shiro until he did, and Red was the one that thought it was an epically pointless endeavor and pushed at Lance to try to put a stop to it.

The Lions were being jerks, to put it bluntly.

“You look exhausted,” Keith said, breaking their unspoken agreement not to mention how shitty things were at the moment.

“Ooh thanks, jackass, I needed to hear that. Red’s an asshole,” he replied.

“Still not letting you sleep?”

“Mmm… not the same as before. Now it is like… okay puny human, I will let you sleep, but I will continue to worry and pace and scorch a path through your brain while you do so you wake up more tired than when you went to bed.”

“Puny human?” one dark brow arched questioningly.

“Alteans need half as much sleep as humans,” he explained, “and I guess you need less sleep than I do. Red thinks I’m a lazy cub.”

“You’re not lazy,” Keith assured him, “you’re just not an insomniac like me.”

“You’re an insomniac? I didn’t know that!”

“Well, not **anymore** I feel like I’m sleeping three hours for every one I’m awake lately… but yeah… Growing up, I had the hardest time trying to sleep. I used to take melatonin to conk out.”

“Huh… the things you learn in space. I used to sleepwalk when I was real little. Mom found me out on the beach one night and put bells on all the doors to wake me up.”

“Bells? Like jingl-” The cough seemed to surprise him, blowing his eyes wide for a split second before they scrunched shut.

Lance sprang into action, turning the stool so Keith could brace his back against the island and falling into the familiar pattern of thumping on his back to encourage the coughing to be productive. He kept a close watch on the sensor and a close ear on how well Keith was able to inhale between bouts of coughing. Torn, ragged petals fell from his lips unheeded, scattering across his lap and the floor. No problem. Lance could clean them up after Keith was feeling better.

Thankfully, it was a minor attack- over in a few minutes and not setting off the alarm that told them intervention was needed. Still, Keith was shaken- they both were. There was just something so unsettling about coughing up flowers. Wordlessly, Lance wrapped his arms around his friend, and Keith buried his face in Lance’s chest, clutching at his old baseball tee.

Like he could keep him safe.

Like he could do **anything**.

He felt so utterly helpless, and so very frightened. Keith was difficult to get close to, and a pain in the ass a solid seventy-five percent of the time- but he was a good man. A truly good man. Honest, brave, loyal, dedicated, noble, fierce, kind… so many good things that out weighed the way he bristled and pushed people away. The universe was so much better with him in it. The fight against the Galra had such better odds because of this one, single person.

“I wish I could fix this,” he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

“I know,” Keith answered, and they both pretended not to hear the tears, “I wish you could, too.”

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but by the time he cleaned up the mess, it was obvious that Keith wasn’t up to a billiards game. Slowly, they made their way back to Keith’s quarters. “Hang on,” Keith said pulling them to a stop, “I need to duck into the washroom.”

“We’re almost there,” he coaxed.

“Lance, I gotta take a leak… and my mouth tastes like pennies and perfume. It’s twenty feet away. I’ll be fine. Just wait here, okay?”

“I dunno man… I’m supposed to be stuck to you like glue…”

“Lance, I just coughed up half a rosebush, I’ll be fine long enough to rinse out my mouth and piss.”

“And wash your hands,” Lance answered, relenting. Keith was right, after he coughed stuff up like that, he usually got a bit of a break… and Lance was right outside the door. Emergency gear stowed in the deep pockets of his jacket.

“Obviously,” muttered Keith, stepping away from him.

He got as far as the doorway.

Then, he pulled up short. Whiteknuckling the frame, he cleared his throat, and held his hand up to Lance. It took every ounce of self-control he had to stay put, but Keith had gotten better at accepting help when he needed it, so he did.

He was **right there**. Lance could get to him in three seconds flat if he needed to. He could close the distance in the time it took to pull the rescue mask out of his pocket. No time wasted. It would be fine. Fine.

Keith would be fine.

He cleared his throat again, spitting out a petal.

**Shit.**

God, it sounded so painful when the coughing tore through Keith like that. Lance could feel his throat burn in sympathy. It was a short-lived coughing jag, but it was so hard to keep from rushing to Keith’s aid. So hard to watch the way he shook and trembled after. But, he did it… and the coughing stopped. Keith wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah… really need to piss now,” he rasped.

“Yeah… umm… I bet. You go. I’ll get those.” Keith just nodded and disappeared into the washroom.

He pulled out one of the little bags he carried for flower clean-up and got to work. The flower petals were mangled, as usual, crushed and torn, speckled with blood. He couldn’t help but feel that if they could just get a full blossom, it might help them figure out what was killing Keith. He almost wished it **was** hanahaki, because at least then they’d know what the next steps would be. At least then they’d know **anything**!

Keith was running out of time.

Right now, that was pretty much the only thing Lance knew.

* * *

“See? Isn’t this better?”

Shiro’s fake-optimism was irritating, but he meant well so Keith just nodded. “Sure.”

“Keith… I know…” He trailed off, shaking his head like he’d thought better of whatever he was going to say. “It just makes more sense for you to be here than in your own quarters right now.”

“I get it, Shiro. I do. I know this is a compromise so I’m not stuck in the medbay all the time. I don’t have to like it to understand it.” He didn’t even have the energy to argue about it anymore.

“It’s temporary,” he replied, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Keith wondered if anyone really believed that anymore. Well, if anyone believed that it would be temporary because he was going to get better, anyway. It was starting to feel like it was inevitable that someday soon, he’d just start coughing and end up in a cryopod… for… however long it took for them to find a cure or…

“I know,” he assured his friend, “just until you guys figure this out.”

“Exactly.” Keith could see the moment when Shiro emotionally doubled down on the whole ‘find a cure’ thing. His eyes changed, the warm grey taking on a steely glint Keith recognized from years of seeing Shiro tackle challenge after challenge.

“Hey- how have you been sleeping?” he asked, trying to shift the focus off his own failing health.

“Umm… not bad, all things considered,” Shiro answered.

“Really? Because Lance is pretty vocal about Red messing with his sleep… and I know how Black is…”

“I’m fine, Keith,” he insisted, “nothing for you to worry about. Black’s worried, but not to the point that I can’t sleep.”

Quietly, he watched Shiro. He hated seeing how his illness was hurting his friend. Hated how exhausted he seemed, how he forced himself to put on a brave face, how normal it had become to see his eyes rimmed in red. He owed Shiro so damn much, and the last thing he’d ever wanted to do was hurt him. But, getting sick was beyond his control. This illness wasn’t an enemy Keith couldn’t face down with a sword and burst of rage.

Pidge kept pushing him to confess to being in love with Shiro, convinced that Keith had hanahaki… but he knew that’s not what he felt for Shiro. Shiro was… his brother. Sometimes, he almost felt sort of Dad-like. He loved him. Keith knew that. But that love wasn’t any different now than it had ever been. Being around Shiro made him feel… like he was home. Safe. He admired him and wanted to make him proud. He’d go through hell and back for Shiro, and he knew Shiro would do the same for him.

Pidge didn’t get it. She didn’t get **them** and that was okay. Pidge had her **actual** family. Even here in space, she’d been reunited with her brother and her father. She wasn’t going to understand what Shiro meant to Keith, because she never had that gap in her life that needed to be filled in the way that Keith’s had.

She saw them, the two gay guys with a bond that was so much more than what friendships had ever been for her… and she came to the wrong conclusion. Most of the time, he didn’t care what other people thought about him and Shiro. Not anymore. He didn’t need other people to understand it. He understood it. Shiro understood it. Shiro felt the same way.

Shiro was the only family he’d had for a long time… and really, as much as he called the others family, it wasn’t the same. He loved them- Allura and Coran, and the other Paladins. It was a deeper bond than just friendship. One that he didn’t really have the right language for- but family… that word was close enough. It just wasn’t the **same** as how Shiro was family.

But, he definitely wasn’t **in love** with Shiro, so it wasn’t hanahaki. Even if it was some kind of weird alien variation of hanahaki that was about relationships that weren’t romantic, it couldn’t be hanahaki… because as skittish and skeptical as Keith had learned to be about people who claimed to care about him, Shiro had won his trust. He didn’t have faith in many people, but he never doubted that Shiro loved him just as much as he loved Shiro. He’d proved that more times than Keith could count.

So, it didn’t matter if Pidge, and probably Hunk and Lance and the Alteans, thought that he was letting himself succumb to hanahaki over his friend- as long as they kept researching what else it could be.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was that the two of them knew the truth of it.

“Hey,” he said quietly, “remember that time you ended up in the hospital while they recalibrated your adaptive tech?”

Shiro nodded, sitting at the foot of the bed. The so-called ‘convalescence suite’ wasn’t small, but there also wasn’t a whole lot of seating, and Shiro tended to hover close by when he worried. “There was a glitch in the new software that needed a patch.”

“I got suspended,” he said, “for mouthing off to teachers.”

“Yes, I remember. Adam was pissed that he had to be the one to deal with it.”

“Mmmhmmm… and then he got the teachers to give him the course plans for every class I was going to miss and made me sit at the hospital to do it on my own while he was working.”

“Yeah. You did a lot better on your own than in the classroom.”

“Well, yeah- I wasn’t pissed off and worried and scared that people were lying to me about you. Do you remember what you said to me about why Adam was such a pain in the ass about the suspension?”

Shiro shook his head, and that was the biggest tell that he was buckling under the stress, because there was no way he’d have forgotten that otherwise. “You said that sometimes, seeing someone you care about be sick, and not being able to fix it… sometimes it was harder than being the sick one. Didn’t make a lick of sense to me at the time, but I think I get it now.”

“He was pissed because he had to go to work, and you found a way to get out of having to go to classes,” Shiro pointed out.

“Huh.” That little nugget of information cast a lot of Adam’s interactions with him at that time in a whole new light. Maybe Shiro’s fiance hadn’t hated him, after all. “My point was… I’m not really getting better, but you are still helping, Shiro. Cut yourself some slack.”

“It’s not the same, Keith.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m sick and you hate seeing it. When you were sick, I hated seeing it.”

“We knew what was happening to me, though!”

“Shiro!” he snapped, exasperated, “we know what’s happening to me, too! We don’t know why, and we don’t know how to stop it, but my lungs are filling up with alien fucking flowers and its choking the life out of me. Your muscles were locking up and slowly trapping you in your own body. We knew what happening, We just didn’t know **why** your genes decided to fuck you over, or how to make them stop doing that. It sucks! I know it sucks… but don’t fucking lie to me about how **you** are doing! I’ve been kicking your ass at cards for too long for that to work!”

“Keith! Calm down! You’re going to start coughing again!”

The naked fear in Shiro’s voice hit him like a bucket of ice water, stopping him in his tracks. Nodding, he closed his eyes, doing his best to settle himself down. Not that long ago, everyone had been pushing him to cough as much as possible. Sometime in the last couple of days, he’d hit some kind of tipping point, and the advice had reversed. No more time in the pool with Lance to strengthen his lungs. No more trying to ‘clear space’. Now it was all about conserving his energy and trying to avoid doing further damage to his throat and lungs.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, “really. I’m fine. No coughing. See?”

“You want some water?”

He didn’t, but Shiro needed a task, so he nodded, “sure. Hydration is good.”

“Heyyyy, you’re all settled in!” Hunk and Pidge practically tumbled into the room, tripping all over each other to check on him.

“This place isn’t so bad,” Pidge observed, “I thought it might feel like a hospital room, but it doesn’t. It’s just… you know… a plain old room.”

Which was true enough, at least on a surface level. Keith knew though, that the room was wired with sensors that were somehow keyed to his specific genetic signature, and that stowed within the wall panels that looked like every other wall panel on the Castleship was a whole host of medical tech.

Even the bed was misleading. It looked exactly like the one in his old quarters, but if he crashed, the whole thing sealed off into a stasis chamber. He wasn’t sure that was as reassuring to him as it was to the others though.

“Yep,” Shiro agreed, “nothing like a hospital room.”

“Big enough for us to hang out in, too,” Hunk pointed out, taking a seat on the floor, because Allura seemed to be the only one of them who was able to sit in a chair properly most of the time.

“Is… that a thing we are going to be doing?” Keith asked, surprised. He wasn’t really used to people just… chilling out… in his space. That was… going to be an adjustment.

“Well,” Hunk continued, “since you can’t come to us… it makes sense that we’d come to you.”

“Don’t worry Keith,” Pidge laughed, “we’ll respect your emo loner needs for solo brooding time.”

“I think what Pidge is trying to say,” Shiro cut in, glaring at the Green Paladin, “is that no one wants to exhaust you with too much socializing.”

“Yeah, that,” she agreed, rolling her eyes, “and hey! You get a break from Lance now!”

He hadn’t thought of that. Switching rooms meant that he didn’t need constant supervision anymore. Lance could stop babysitting him all the damn time. Not that he’d actually minded it all that much once he got over the wounded pride. Lance was good at treating him pretty normally without ignoring that he was sick… and they got along a lot better now.

Really, the only time he really grated on Keith’s nerves was during the pool time, and that was less about it being Lance and more about how miserable the exercises he had to do were.

“Speaking of… where is Lance?” Shiro asked, “is he actually getting some sleep?”

Hunk shook his head, “he was headed to the hangar when I last saw him… but he said he’d be here once he was done.”

“Allura and Coran are swamped, though,” Pidge added, “they found a corrupted sector in the archives and are chasing down the missing information through coalition contacts.”

“Everyone’s working so hard,” Keith breathed. It hadn’t really hit him before just how much time and effort they were all putting into helping him.

“No harder than you’d be working for one of us,” Shiro countered.

“Yeah… okay… right. You’re right. It’s just…” He shrugged, “weird to think about, I guess.”

Pidge was walking the length of the room, taking carefully measured steps. She tucked her heel up against the opposite toe with each step, and counted them out. “Hmmmm… too crowded for the billiards table… but… Oh! We can bring in the checkers game! That will help keep Keith occupied.”

“We’ve got those novels we translated, too,” Hunk suggested.

“You mean the weird Altean romance novels that you and Lance found? I dunno if Keith wants to be reading those!”

“Hey! They taught us a lot about Altean culture!”

“Noooo they taught us that Coran reads weird Altean bodice-rippers and we kind of already knew that while also **never needing** to know it for sure!”

Shiro groaned, rolling his eyes at Keith. On the surface, it seemed like the same old playful bickering that Hunk and Pidge had always done. But, this wasn’t about a project they were working on together, and there was something brittle about the interaction. They’d been doing this, he’d noticed. Whenever they had to be around him at the same time, they’d start picking at each other, needling the other into a meaningless argument.

It was their version of Shiro’s fussing, and Allura’s bossiness, and Coran’s recent over-usage of ‘dear boy’s when talking to or about Keith. No one knew how to act around him anymore… and he got it, but… he hated knowing that he was the reason they were all stressed out and out of sorts. He hated the close-but-not-quite-right versions of them he was faced with, when what he wanted was the people he’d grown to love, just as he’d always known them. Normal and familiar and comforting.

“Listen, just because you hate love, like, **as a concept** doesn’t mean everyone does!”

“Oh, yeahhhh, because when I think of people who **definitely** want to be reading **straight** alien romance novels the very first name that springs to mind is **Keith Kogane!** Do you even hear yourself?”

“Woah!” Lance stood in the doorway, his arms flung out to the sides dramatically, “what the hell did I walk in on? Is this another modulation argument? Didn’t we agree that those are only allowed to happen in the workshop? Because, seriously, guys… I love you both, but you need to know- no one else cares about the modulation argument!”

His old army jacket was a little worn at the seams, and instead of swimming in it like he used to, it actually fit him now, but it had held up pretty well given how often Lance wore the thing. Keith rarely noticed it anymore, but there was something about the way Lance was flinging his arms around and playfully scolding the others that reminded Keith of the early days of Voltron and kind of shone a light on how some things had changed so much, while others were kind of constant.

“Not the modulation argument,” Pidge huffed, dropping onto one of the few seats in the room.

“I offered to bring Keith some of the translated books to read.”

“Aww Hunk, that was sweet of you.” Lance beamed, “never knew Keith had a hankering for alien smut, but no judgement here. I’ve read every last one of them.” He winked at Keith, “some of’em twice.”

“Lannce,” warned Shiro.

“What? They’re fun books! Lots of drama and romance!”

Shiro groaned, rubbing at his face in frustration. Keith hadn’t seen the two of them get on each other’s cases like this in ages. It was so normal. He couldn’t help but smile at them.

“I can give you a list of the… umm… most… uh… let’s call it **engaging** ones if you want,” Lance offered, waggling his eyebrows at Keith.

Shiro muttered something under his breath that Keith was pretty sure was Galran cursing and he cracked. Laughter bubbled through him, shaking out the tension he hadn’t realized he was holding in his body as it burst free of his mouth. He laughed himself breathless, still shaking on silent peals of mirth.

He had no idea what had even been **so funny** about Lance’s face, but he absolutely could not stop laughing. Everyone else went silent, just watching him. His back hurt. His face hurt. Tears streamed out of his eyes and his stomach was cramping up. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard for so long.

Eventually, he just tipped over, falling bonelessly to the mattress and fighting to catch a breath until the laughter died out in thin, shaky wheezes.

“You okay there?” Shiro asked him, offering a hand.

“Mmmhmm,” he managed, another little giggle sneaking out around the answer.

“Was that… a **giggle**?” Lance asked, incredulous. “Did anyone else here know that Keith could giggle?”

“Fuck off, Lance,” he rasped, accepting the water that Shiro handed him out of nowhere and nearly choking as his body tried to drink and laugh at the same time.

“Awww but it was so cyooot- Ow! Pidge!”

“He said, fuck off, Lance!”

“Language,” warned Shiro, even though it was completely pointless. They all knew it was pointless, he’d never been able to curb Pidge’s cursing and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

Handing the water back to Shiro, he cleared his throat. The cough really shouldn’t have surprised him, but somehow it did. He saw terror flash in Shiro’s eyes and his friend froze. Before he could even register anything else, there was a familiar form tucking up against him, turning his head into the curve of a broad shoulder, hand thumping with practiced confidence between his shoulder blades. “You’re okay,” Lance murmured soothingly, into his ear, “I got you… this is just a little one… you’re okay…”

He was right. Somehow, he’d known. The coughing fit was over quickly, without even bringing up any flowers. Lance dragged the cuff of his coat across Keith’s lip with his thumb, smiling encouragingly. “See? All good. Just catch your breath.”

Watching them, Pidge flung her leg out, kicking Hunk nonchalantly and then glaring at him until he shifted uncomfortably. “So, hey! I have an idea,” Hunk said, forcing cheerfulness, “just so… you know… we can cross it off the list… umm… maybe Keith should… just… you know… tellallofushelovesus… but like… one at a time.”

“Excellent idea, Hunk!” Pidge answered immediately, and Keith couldn’t help but wonder how the Voltron Show had ever been successful with that kind of piss-poor acting talent.

“What?” Shiro asked, blinking at them like they’d just sprouted wings or something.

“They think it is hanahaki,” Keith answered, leaning back against the wall.

“ **Is** it hanahaki?” Shiro asked him softly, something like hope gleaming in his eyes… which made no fucking sense, at all.

“It’s not fucking hanahaki! We’ve been over this! We ruled that out ages ago!” He glared at Pidge because... he was so sick of this conversation. So, so, sick of this conversation.

“I’m just saying, it’s not going to **hurt** to tell everyone you love us,” Pidge argued, “and then… if you get better, you can keep your damn secrets because you told us all at once!”

“I’m not sure that’s how that works, Pidge,” Shiro said.

“But it **might** ,” she insisted, desperation lacing her voice, “and it’s not going to make him **worse!** ”

“If it’s hanahaki, the other person would have to feel the same way, too,” Hunk pointed out gently, “so… yeah… maybe not knowing for sure is better than saying it and… it not being enough. Pidge. C’mon… drop it.”

“It’s **not** _hanahak-_ ” Yelling had been a mistake. He hadn’t even managed to get all the words out before he started hacking so hard he felt like he was going to shake apart.

Once again, Lance held him steady. How many times had he done this for him over the last several weeks? How many times did you have to do this for someone before it became so automatic that it happened without thought, without decision?

His vision swam, sparks lighting up behind his eyelids. His mouth filled with petals and spilled over. Lance whispered encouragement to him, reminding him not to fight it, to remember to try to breathe in through his nose, to stay calm. Tensing up made it worse- more painful and less productive, which just meant more coughing before it passed.

It was so hard not to fight it though. So hard to just let his body do the thing that felt so wrong and harmful. He latched on to the soft voice in his ear, focused on how calm and warm Lance sounded. It was hard to panic when he sounded so assured.

Even after the coughing passed, Lance held him steady, rubbing his back until his breathing settled. He didn’t let go until Keith stopped shaking and wheezing. Then, and only then did he pull back, propping Keith up with pillows. “Rest,” he said sternly, “I’ll clean this up. Shiro? You still have water for him?”

“I’ll go check the readouts in the medbay,” Pidge announced, hightailing it out the door.

Hunk grabbed a waste bin, “here Lance, let me help…”

“S’okay Hunk, I got it…. I’m used to… oh… wow…” Lance trailed off.

“Is that??”

“It’s a whole blossom!” Lance’s voice filled with hope, “not just mangled petals! That will help right?”

“A whole blossom? Yes! That will help! We can streamline the search so much more! Keith! This is great!” Hunk had tears in his eyes and Keith was glad, he really was… he was just… so tired. All he could really manage was to give Hunk a thumbs up as Shiro pretty much poured water down his throat.

“Lance, give me the blossom… I’ll bring it to Pidge and we’ll… what?”

“Umm… nothing. Nothing!” Lance shook his head, “just… umm… here…”

“Hey… that looks like… Oh! Ohhh… wow… yeah…”

“What?” Keith croaked, pushing away from Shiro and fighting the wave of dizziness moving so soon triggered. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Lance said quickly, busying himself with cleaning up.

“Hunk?”

“Nothing… it’s nothing… just… this flower… it umm… it looks a lot like a white ginger flower… from Earth.”

“And Arus has flowers that look like daisies,” Keith pointed out, “it’s a coincidence.”

“Keith has a point,” Shiro said levelly, “we’ve encountered all kinds of plants that look like ones on Earth… it’s dangerous to jump to conclusions…”

* * *

Lance barely heard the conversation going on around him. He was aware enough that he picked up on Keith’s insistence that it couldn’t possibly be a flower from Earth. But Lance knew that flower. He knew it well. It grew everywhere back home. He could even catch the fragrance clinging to the petals he was cleaning up. Similar to jasmine, but not quite the same.

It was the smell of weaving flowers into his sisters’ and his niece’s hair. It was the blossom of the resistance to Spanish colonization. The white flowers that blanketed the areas by the irrigation ditches on the farm- just starting to bloom when he’d leave for his semester at the Garrison, and barely still blooming when he returned to celebrate Christmas.

Keith was coughing up flowers that permeated almost every memory Lance had of growing up. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it?

Mess cleared away, Lance moved over to the little attached bathroom and washed his hands. He looked like a stranger in the mirror, his eyes dark, skin pale from lack of sleep. Red had been keeping him awake with worry and fretting.

It **had** all been coming from Red and spilling over onto him, right?

He’d have noticed if it was the other way around, wouldn’t he? Like, sure, he’d been worried about Keith but… no more than anyone else, right?

Except… that didn’t feel… **true** anymore… not really...

“Hunk,” he said, voice soft, “you should get that to Pidge… and Shiro, you should go make sure Pidge doesn’t go down some kind of rabbit hole when she sees it. Rein the two of them in, kinda.”

“I’m not sure…”

“No, he’s right,” Hunk interrupted, “you should… ummm… you should definitely come with me.”

“We’ll be okay, Shiro.” He smiled gently, “I’ll keep Keith company. Go on… go… help… yeah?”

He watched as Hunk pretty much dragged Shiro out of the room, then he drifted over to the control panel for the convalescence suite. A few taps shut off the data feed to the medbay. The sensors were still recording Keith’s vitals and the equipment would still do its job, but they had some semblance of privacy for the time being.

“Lance?” Keith asked, voice still raw, as Lance dragged a chair over to the bed and took a seat. “What- you look…”

“I know that flower,” he said softly, “we call it a Mariposa.”

“It’s not… Lance, it’s an alien flower. It has to be.”

Nodding, he smiled sadly, just reaching out to give Keith’s hand a squeeze, “okay.”

They both went quiet. Lance just… waited. He knew Keith sometimes needed quiet and a little bit of space to gather his thoughts, and he was still kind of shaky from the coughing jag. So, Lance waited.

Minutes passed and Keith stayed quiet. His face was unreadable, eyes cast down to where he picked idly at the blanket.

Finally, it became clear that if Keith had had something to say, he would have done so… and he hadn’t. So, Lance cleared his throat, one eyebrow quirking up as he turned to watch his friend. “You’d really rather _die_ than even _consider_ that maybe… it might… possibly be me?”

“Lance…” Keith sounded so tired. He looked so weak. He’d been suffering for… Lance didn’t even know how long. It had been what… a month? Two? Since he’d found his way back to them? And at that point he’d already been so sick. Frail. How long had the Blade been treating him, trying to find out what was filling his lungs with plants they had no record of.

“Loving me… is really a **fate worse than death** to you, Keith?” He barely formed the words around the lump in his throat. It just seemed so… awful. All that pain and fear and… Tears burned his eyes, threatening to spill over...

“Shit! No… Lance…. Fuck… don’t cry! Jesus… no! It’s not… it’s not hanahaki! It can’t be!”

“It’s the fucking **National Flower of Cuba** Keith!” He snarled, “you think I’m not going **recognize that??** ”

“No… no, it can’t be!” Wild eyed, Keith caught Lance’s face in his hands, “I’m not that broken! I can’t be so… I’d **know** , wouldn’t I? I’d know if I fell in love with someone! I’m not so fucked up that I wouldn’t even **know**! I suck with people… but I’m not that damaged! I can’t be **that damaged** , Lance… I’d know… right? Right?!?!”

God, he looked so terrified! He couldn’t bear to see him like that. Lance could feel Red flare up on the edges of his awareness, the worry and fear familiar, but so different now that he was looking just a little deeper. Red was worried about Keith. He was worried about Black. But… mainly… he was protective of Lance, staying close… lurking nearby… ready to jump to his defense, to safeguard him… because he knew… if anything happened to Keith… it would destroy him…

He couldn’t believe he hadn’t made the connection before.

Pulling Keith into a tight hug he made soft, shushing noises. “Okay… okay… I get it… I believe you. Keith? I believe you, okay?”

Keith clung to him, nodding against his shoulder as Lance rubbed his back- just like he’d been doing after every coughing fit for weeks now. “I got you. You’re okay,” he whispered, “you’re okay. We’re okay.”

Once he felt Keith’s breathing settle down again he relaxed his hold on him. Slowly, they drifted apart and he mustered up a smile, “okay... it's just you and me in here. So... I propose... a kind of test..."

Unblinking, Keith stared at him. Lance wasn’t even sure he was breathing, he was so still, so he took a gamble and tried to lighten the mood a little. Smirking playfully, he winked, "I mean, it wouldn't be the WORST thing in the world if it was me, right? We just established that that’s not what all this was about, right?"

Keith did that thing where his eyebrows tried to touch in the middle and his mouth made that little confused not-quite-a-pout that made him look like a little kid who was trying to figure out a magic trick. He looked so young and guileless for all of five seconds before the prickly sarcasm settled back into his features and posture. "Oh yeah, no that would be awesome! It would be so great to not even know I was in love with the straight guy. Who wouldn't be tripping all over themselves to be **that** emotionally fucked up? Lucky me! Woohoo!"

“Hey. Knock it off.” He poked Keith in the shoulder, shifting so he couldn’t dodge the eye contact, "you ever been in love with anyone before?"

Closing his eyes- because he was just. That. Fucking. Stubborn. Apparently- Keith shook his head.

"So how the hell are you supposed to know what it feels like? I don't know what it feels like. I mean, not really. I've had crushes and stuff... but **real deal** love? I have no idea."

"You don't have to lie to me to make me feel better, Lance. You are all about romance..."

"Yeah, cuz I **want** to feel that someday... and because... I like people, I like connecting... flirting is fun... dating is exciting... I have no idea, though... I'm just... trying to enjoy the process of figuring it out. Hell- I'm not even completely sure that I am 'the straight guy'... the whole aliens thing sort of complicates things." Lance went quiet for a moment, "huh... I never said that out loud before. I don't think I’ve even really let myself think it before. I don't know. I really don't... but I know this much... I don't want you to **die**."

Keith blinked at him, his expression stunned, “are you... having a sexuality crisis sitting next to my death bed?”

Cringing, he shifted in his seat, “Right. Time and place. I know. Sorry.”

“You’re so weird,” Keith shook his head at him, “but, you're the only one acting remotely normal with me.”

“Yeah, sorry... I kinda suck at this,” he sighed, “I’ve never been great at the whole ‘comforting presence’ thing…”

“No… I didn't mean it like that, Lance. I meant… it’s a good thing. Acting normally is a good thing.”

“Yeah?” Keith nodded and he relaxed a little. “You know what? This is stupid, shove over. I'm not sitting on a chair like we are in a hospital. I'm crawling in next to you like it's a sleepover.”

“Uh.. what.. umm... okay…” Gingerly, Keith shuffled over, making space for him and Lance climbed up onto the bed, kicking his shoes off.

“Yeah, this is better,” he said, seconds before Keith proved him wrong by having another coughing fit. Just like always, Lance wrapped his arms around him and lent him his strength in the feeble hope that it made it a little more tolerable somehow. “I got you, I got you,” he breathed, rubbing Keith’s back until it passed.

“Thanks,” whispered Keith as Lance cleared the mess away.

Several full blossoms were among the petals. “Yeah… Keith? These are definitely mariposa flowers…”

“...or alien flowers that look like Mari-whatever,” insisted Keith, confirming that he was the most stubborn person Lance had ever met.

Lance fought the urge to shake his head at him again. “So…” he said, instead, “about that test I mentioned…”

Keith rolled his eyes at him, finally relenting a little. “Alright, fine... do your stupid test... whatever it is...”

“You're sure?”

“Yes- whatever weird McClain family tradition test or whatever... go for it. What is it anyway? Is it that thing you do with the fruit peels?”

Lance groaned. “Keith! That's a Scottish tradition that reveals the initial of the person you will marry, and you can only do it at Christmas!”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Keith glared at him, “well, excuse me for not remembering that! What is it then?”

“Uh... pretty simple really... it's... ummm... this…” Taking a steadying breath, he leaned in closer and kissed Keith softly.

Keith froze, going impossibly still against Lance’s lips, which wouldn’t really work for the whole **test** thing. So, Lance lifted his hand to cup Keith's face, his thumb stroking the hinge of his jaw, coaxing a response.

For several heartbeats, Lance thought it might be a lost cause, but then… Then… Keith sighed and started to kiss him back, all soft and tentative.

And…

Wow…

That was…

Just…

Wow.

It was almost shy, but that was fine. Better than fine. Lance had absolutely no issue with that, continuing to kiss him softly until Keith pulled back and then brushing their noses together. “You okay?”

Keith’s voice was suspicious, “you asking if I'm still dying?”

Lance blushed harder than he had in years and shook his head; a tiny motion because it kind of felt like if he did anything more reality would shatter. “No… asking if you are freaking out…”

“Umm.. yeah… a little... you?”

“Uh… not as much as I thought I would be…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah… oh.” Lance cleared his throat, still watching Keith’s face. “You should... say it... in case it's true…”

“In case?”

He nodded, thumb rubbing little circles into Keith’s jaw, partly to be, like… comforting… but partly because… Lance just really wasn’t ready to stop touching him yet. “Well... I mean... how are you supposed to know for sure, right?”

Keith’s eyes flickered between his own and his mouth for several eternal seconds before he kissed him again- not quite so shy and sweet this time… and damn… there was something about that… that really bore exploring. Lance felt Keith’s tongue trace against the seam of his lips and, just like that, he melted with a sigh. He parted for him, his own tongue darting out as the kiss deepened.

Sliding his hand to wrap around the back of Keith’s neck, he tangled his fingers in Keith’s hair. Keith made a soft noise and his arms wrapped around Lance. He pressed closer, his whole body tingling. It felt like… like… like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Kind of like the first time he’d connected with his Lions- like his whole body lit up from the inside with all this new… potential for something… really, really great. Important. Powerful. This time when they pulled back they were both breathless and trembling, staring at each other in a daze for several long moments.

Eyes huge and serious, Keith watched him, “you still the straight guy?”

Lance stared at Keith, trying to figure out how he’d been so blind to how handsome he was for so long. His blood sang in his veins, head still swimming from the potency of that kiss, and all he could think about was doing that again. Like, a lot.

More of that. Yes, please!

“Mmmm?” Oh, Keith had asked him a question. He’d asked… oh. “Ahhh... nope... definitely not,” he answered, half-laughing at the thought, “very much not straight.”

“Lance… I think I'm in love with you…”

Right. That had been a test… and not a test of Lance’s straightness. Sick. Keith was sick and they were trying to… Right. Finding a cure for Keith had been high on his priority list before, but now… God, the thought of losing him now felt like… it felt… He cleared his throat. “Alright. See? That wasn't so awful. I'll tell the others to keep looking for the alien parasite plant that looks like Mariposa because we ruled that out…”

“No... Lance... I mean it…”

“Wait... what?”

“I think I'm in love with you…” Keith’s voice was steady, sure. No trace of nervousness marred it. “I didn't know what it felt like... but I know what **not** being in love with someone I'm kissing feels like... and it's... not that…”

Lance’s mouth went dry, his heart racing, “so… hanahaki?”

“Yeah,” Keith nodded, “I'm in love with you. I love you.”

“Umm... okay... wow... this is... not how I thought my day would go,” Lance said, trying to wrap his head around… just… all of that. “There’s... lots of... uh... new information to... process…”

Keith watched him, eerily calm, “uh-huh...”

He met his eyes. God, Keith had incredible eyes! Such a pretty color… and those lashes… and oh. **Ohhhh…** He let his own eyes drift shut for a second, getting a handle on what he was feeling. “Lots to process... but... umm... yeah... that thing you said? About knowing what it feels like to kiss someone you're not in love with?”

“I remember what I said, Lance.”

“Right… I mean... Yeah… of course you do! You just said it… but… um... that... um... it makes a lot of sense... I know... what that feels like, too.” He chuckled, a short, awkward burst of laughter, “God, do I have a lot of experience kissing people I’m not in love with.., and kissing you didn't feel... like that... it felt...more…”

“So… what exactly are you saying?”

“Give me a second, Keith! Sooo… umm... soo... wanna go out with me? When you feel better, I mean... obviously…”

Keith eyed him skeptically, “like on a date? Or like 'hey we're going out now'?”

Shit. Keith wasn’t exactly the most cosy and affectionate person- and he was sick… and maybe a relationship wasn’t really something he wanted, even if he was in lo- even if he was being honest about his feelings. Panic clawed at him, the last thing he wanted to do was spook him! “Uhhh… either?”

One dark brow lifted in question, “either?”

Of fucking **course** he wasn’t going to make easy on him! He wouldn’t be Keith if he did! Well, Lance wasn’t a Paladin of Voltron because he was a **coward** , so, “well... you almost died... seems kinda stupid to 'go slow' or whatever…”

The eyebrow ratcheted slightly higher, “are you dropping hints that you want to be my boyfriend?”

Ugh, he was so infuriating! Why did he love him, again? “Ugh- you are so infuriating!” he repeated, out loud, because Keith needed to know that. “Well, I **was** but obviously not very well if you have to ask that!”

“You could have just said so!”

Gaping at him in exasperation, Lance fought the urge to throttle Keith. “Dude! I literally asked if you want to go out with me!”

“I don't understand why you make things so difficult! This is like the Voltron chant all over again!”

“It’s not like the Voltron chant,” he snapped, starting to get very annoyed. “Also- **me**?!?! How am **I** the one making things difficult right now??

Keith gestured vaguely at him. “This is how!”

Planting his face in his hands, Lance took a deep breath, counting to ten on both the inhale and exhale before lifting his head again. “You were literally ready to die rather than admit you loved me!”

“Just say what you mean, Lance!” Keith snarked, his expression anything but loving.

“Fine!” Lance bit out, “yes! I want to be your boyfriend!”

“Yeah?!?!” Keith got into his face, all attitude and bullheadedness. “Well **good**! Because I want that too!”

“Awesome! I officially have the most pain in the ass boyfriend in the galaxy!”

“Pretty sure you’re wrong there. Have you **met** you? You’re definitely more of a pain in the ass than me.”

He wanted to scream. How the fuck was Keith being so infuriating right now? “You know what? Keep it up and I won’t even be there when you leave for the Blades again! I always hate doing that anyway!”

“Well, you’re shit outta luck because if you think I’m leaving you to go back to the Blades after all this, you’re fucking nuts! So, it looks like you’re just going to be stuck with me for good!” He crossed his arms over his chest and Lance wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face so bad he could **taste** it!

“You know what? Fine. By. Me!”

“Yeah! Fine by me, too!”

“Good!”

“Good!”

“Fine!” Fighting the urge to scream, Lance stormed out of the room.

“You forgot your shoes!” Keith yelled after him.

“I don’t even care!” he yelled back, watching as the door slid shut behind him. He let out a growl of frustration and barely resisted the urge to stomp his feet like a toddler. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he turned away from the convalescence suite to head back to his own quarters and spotted Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro all staring at him, wide-eyed with shock and confusion from the medbay. “We fixed it,” Lance practically shouted at them. “He’s gonna be fine! Stubborn… pain in the… Ugh! I’m gonna be in my room!”

* * *

Keith groaned. What was wrong with him? Other than the whole **hanahaki** thing. How had he turned something… good… into a screaming match?

Too broken and fucked up to even know he was in love with someone. Even when he was spending every day with them. Even when it was slowly choking the life out of him.

And then, by some miracle, he figured it out before it was too late… and by an even bigger miracle, it wasn’t hopeless… and what did he do?

Find some way to drive Lance away while he could still taste his kiss on his lips. At least he could take some comfort in the fact that Lance seemed to be as confused and irritated by the argument as he was… and weirdly, they’d mostly been **agreeing** while they yelled at each other.

He chewed at his lip as he thought, the memory of those kisses lingering in the slightly increased sensitivity. They’d been… a lot. Like the air before a storm- brimming with some kind of power just waiting to be unleashed. It had, admittedly, been a long time since he’d last locked lips with someone, but he’d never experienced that before. Plucking at the blanket, he let his head fall back against the wall, his eyes closing on a deep sigh.

The door slid open and relief flooded him, “decided you wanted your shoes after all?”

“Do I even want to know why Lance took his shoes off in the first place?” Shiro asked, nearly making Keith jump out of his skin. He’d been so sure it had been Lance. Honestly, he’d kind of forgotten that the others even existed for a few minutes there, let alone that they’d been right in the next room that whole time. Shiro settled back into his earlier perch at the foot of the bed. “Did he get so mad he threw them at you or something? That sounds like something he’d do…”

Keith snorted, “with his aim? I’d probably have a black eye.” He sighed, “he said something about sleepovers and took them off before sitting on the bed.”

“You okay? It’s been awhile since you two have gotten into it. I know it used to really mess with your head…”

“I dunno… I don’t want to talk about it. We’ll figure it out. We aren’t kids anymore- you don’t need to… go all ‘Space-Dad’ and try to like… mediate things.”

“I don’t d-” Shiro stalled out when he saw Keith’s face, “alright. Fine. I’ll leave it be.”

“Shiro!” Pidge barked, striding into the room, “you were supposed to turn the data feed back on.” Glaring at Shiro the whole time, she turned whatever Lance had shut off back on. “Lance said you’re going to be okay… but I’d rather wait on actual evidence of that before we celebrate.”

“Oh… yeah… makes sense.” He couldn’t help but smile. Lance said he was going to be okay- **after** the yelling. Just confessing wasn’t enough to cure hanahaki… the feelings had to be reciprocated.

“Yup- I see that… face… and I would just like to go on record that I never ‘ruled out’ hanahaki.”

“I know, Pidge,” he muttered, “you made that very clear.”

“Good,” she nodded, “it’s good that you know. Remember this the next time you wanna argue with me.” She turned toward the door, then paused, apparently thinking better of it. Turning on her heel, she almost ran to the bed, coiling herself around him in a tight hug.

“What happened to waiting for ‘actual evidence’?”

“Either he’s right and you are going to be okay, or he’s wrong and you’re not,” she whispered brokenly, “both options warrant a hug.”

“Kay,” he answered softly, because what was he supposed to say to that? He slid his arms around her and squeezed her back. He felt her tears, felt the way she shook in his arms and he was reminded of how truly scared she had been for him. “Thank-you, Pidge,” he whispered, “for… everything…”

“You’re family,” was her answer- and that would mean a lot from anyone, but from **Pidge** it meant even more. He’d seen the lengths Pidge would go to for her family, knew what an honor it was to earn that label from her. He should never have taken it for granted in the first place.

“Pidge where did you- Oh! We’re hugging now?” Before he really knew what was happening, Pidge was squashed onto him, and Hunk’s huge arms encased them both.

“Hunk!” he squeaked, the sound trailing off into a weak cough that sent them both apologetically scrambling.

“Keith!” Shiro was suddenly right in front of him, metal hand wrapping around Keith’s. “Stay calm… don’t fight it…”

Why was he still coughing? What was happening? Petals spilled from his lips, his mouth filling with that old perfume taste that was so familiar now.

“They’re… not the same,” Hunk whispered, “look! They’re… like… shrivelled!”

The fear must have shown in his eyes because Pidge settled her hand over Shiro’s. “We **will** figure this out, Keith. I promise.”

“You just keep breathing Keith,” Shiro coaxed, nodding as he spoke, “we’ll deal with everything else. You just breathe… just breathe…”

Finally he was able to drag in a shaky breath without triggering more coughing. “I’m okay, guys… I’m okay.”

“We should… analyze… all this,” Hunk suggested, cleaning up the flower bits, “I don’t know why… this is…”

“No jumping to conclusions,” Pidge insisted, “we’ll be right next door. Come on, Hunk.”

Shiro patted his hand and stood, getting him another glass of water. “For your throat,” he said, handing it to him.

He took a few tentative sips, trying to keep panic at bay. Had he been right all along? What if it **wasn’t** hanahaki? What if it **was** but he was sick for too long and it was too late for him to get better?

“Stop it,” scolded his friend, “I can see you coming up with nightmare scenarios from here.”

“I’m not-”

“Keith. Stop. I know you. You are. Let Pidge and Hunk handle all the ‘what if’s. You rest, save your strength.”

“It’s just-”

“No. Stop it. Right now your focus is on resting.”

He was about to protest when the door slid open again and Lance sailed in, loaded down with bundles and bags, wearing alien pyjamas with a pair of Lion slippers on his feet.

Shiro eyed him curiously, "hey Lance? Whatcha got there?"

"Snacks," Lance answered easily as he shook out his pillow and blankets and fiddled with his phone until music started playing softly.

"Snacks?" Shiro echoed, staring pointedly at the bedding that Lance was wrestling with.

Lance nodded spreading his blanket over Keith and plunking his pillow next to him on the bed, "mmhmmm."

"I thought you were mad at me," Keith said, his voice quiet and nervous, making room.

“I was… because you are impossible. You’re absolutely impossible.” Lance rolled his eyes, stowed the bags of snacks (presumably) at the foot of the bed and pushed at Shiro so he could crawl into the bed beside Keith, "but you're sick. You get a free pass."

"I do?" Shyly, Keith turned his free hand over, palm up. Lance saw it for the invitation it was, taking his hand and squeezing it. His long, slender fingers slotted between Keith’s, that simple touch doing more than he would have thought possible to reassure him.

"Mmhmmm," he kissed him softly, "you do. I’m an asshole when I’m sick, too."

Shiro watched them, expression incredulous, "what is going on right now?"

"Umm… so… Lance is my boyfriend." Keith answered, blushing and Lance nodded, his smile proud.

“But…” Shiro rubbed his face, “okay. Sure. Congrats you guys.”

“Thanks,” chirped Lance, smiling brightly. “Now get out. My boyfriend needs to rest.”

“He’s right,” Keith agreed, “I should rest.”

“That’s what I was- nevermind. Just… don’t let yourself get too stressed out. I’ll… update everyone.” He gave Keith a quick hug before heading out, "what a day… I... need a drink... I wonder if Coran has anything better than nunville..."

“I really get a free pass?” Keith asked, staring at their interlaced hands.

“Yeah… of course you do.”

“”I… umm… I coughed up more flowers… while you were gone… I thought-”

“Shhh…” Lance kissed him, a barely there brush of lips against lips. “You’re going to be fine.”

“But… the flowers-”

“-have to go somewhere,” Lance finished. “Coughing them up isn’t the problem, growing new ones is. It’s like how you keep coughing for a while after you get better from a cold. You’re okay. I know it in my bones.”

“In your bones? That’s not how anything works, Lance.”

“In my soul, then. I know it in my soul.” He stared into Keith’s eyes, his own blue eyes clear and resolute. “You’re going to be okay, and we’re going to be fine… better than fine. Were you serious before?”

“About how I feel? Yeah. Completely.”

“Mmm… good to know… but I meant about the Blades… about not going back?” Something… uncertain… crept into that familiar blue- like a shadow.

“Oh… umm… yeah. I’m not going back. I mean, I’ll still do missions with them if they need me, but it won’t be like it was. I belong here. I belong with Voltron… with you. I’m not leaving you, not unless I absolutely have to.”

The smile that spread over Lance’s features was beautiful, “you know I’d never ask you to choose, right?”

“I do… and you didn’t. This is just… home. **You** are home… kinda.” He bit his lip, “sorry that was… cheesy.”

“Uh-uh… it was romantic,” Lance whispered, kissing him sweetly. “I love it. I love **you**. I didn’t say it before, not really… and… you deserve to hear it. So… yeah. I’m in love with you, Keith. So, you’re going to get better, and we’re going to be sickeningly happy.”

“You feel it in your bones?” he teased, grinning.

“In my **soul** ,” Lance countered, laughing into a million tiny, affectionate kisses that made Keith smile and blush and swoon. “I feel it in my soul!”

* * *

Lance hadn’t seen Keith this nervous since the day he’d asked him to move in with him. He was trying to hide it, like always, but Lance could see right through it. Ever since the message from Kolivan came saying that Keith’s **mother** had been recovered from a mission that had been thought to have cost her life, Keith had been jumpy and out of sorts. Now that they were waiting for the Blade shuttle to dock in the Castleship, he was a mess.

“Babe,” Lance sighed, catching Kaith’s hands in his own, “you need to relax.”

“But… what if-”

“Stop,” he kissed him, quick and fierce until he felt the tension in his frame changed and then he pulled him into a hug. “She wants to meet you. You want to meet her. You have questions, and I’m sure she does, too. But Keith, you have no reason to worry. You are amazing. **Amazing**. Anyone with half a brain would be proud to know you… and I have yet to meet a stupid Blade, so… she’s going to be so proud of you.”

“I guess…”

“Yeah? Well, I know. Do you know how I know? Because I have excellent taste, and very high standards, and I fell in love with you.”

It took a second. Keith blinked at him blankly a few times before he cracked a smile, and then laughed. “Right. Indisputable proof.”

“Exactly.”

“Seriously though…”

“Seriously though,” he spoke over him, catching him by the shoulders, “you woke up this morning the Black Paladin of Voltron, a celebrated hero. You are a kind, brave, smart man, with a team that is your family, and a loving partner. You have friends that are royalty, and friends that are spies, and friends that are smugglers. You have a huge heart and a clever mind and are wicked hot when you fight. Like, it’s a little unfair that I get to hog you all to myself because… dammmmn, babe.” He let out a low whistle that made Keith roll his eyes and chuckle, “you have a good life, and you are happy. We’re happy. If things go badly with this meeting- that will suck, but it won’t **take away** any of the things that are already true. You aren’t going to lose your Lion, or your friends, or your purpose, or me. You might gain something great- but you aren’t going to **lose** anything. Right?”

“Right.” He nodded once, resolute. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I’m just…”

“I know. I do… but you’re okay, and we’re okay, and everything will be okay.” He flashed his brightest, most supportive smile, “I mean, I’m the one basically getting a mother-in-law today, can we focus on who’s really facing their worst fear, here?”

“Oh my God, Lance!” Keith laughed.

Allura knocked on the doorframe, “she’s here… waiting in the reception room, whenever you are ready.”

“Thanks, Princess,” Lance answered, still watching Keith. “You ready, babe?”

Keith nodded, “if you’ve got my back, I can handle anything. So yeah. Ready.”

* * *

She was wearing an officer’s uniform from the Blade. Her arm was bandaged and secured in a sling, and it looked like she’d gotten knocked around a bit, based on the fading bruises and not-quite healed scrapes on her face. Tall. Strongly built. More than a little intimidating, even without all the emotional baggage.

Still, there was something about her.

She stood when they entered the room, her eyes flicking from him to Lance, then their joined hands, and back to him again. Her expression didn’t really change, but there was something about her eyes… something **soft** that made his nerves just… dissolve.

“Keith,” she said, clearing her throat, “I’m… I am your… my name is Krolia.”

“Hi,” he said, smiling. He tugged Lance a little closer, “this is Lance. He’s-”

“I’m his partner,” Lance said, a hard edge to his voice that made Keith do a double take.

“His mate, yes,” she nodded, smiling, “I know.”

“I was going to say he’s the Red Paladin,” Keith said, trying to get the conversation back on track.

“Mmm, yeah. That too,” Lance confirmed, dropping his hand to snake his arm around Keith’s back, gripping his hip. Keith didn’t mind, exactly, but it wasn’t really how he’d expected Lance to react. Lance was the social butterfly! He was the guy who put everyone else at ease. Why was he being the bristly one?

“Kolivan hasn’t told me much, but he did tell me who the Paladins of Voltron are,” Krolia answered, “it’s an honor to meet you.”

“Thanks…” Okay, this was getting awkward and weirdly formal. “Ummm… maybe we should just all sit down and get to know each other a bit?”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Lance agreed tugging Keith along with him as he took a seat on one of the recessed couches.

Krolia sat opposite them, shifting gingerly, which was odd. The Blades didn’t have the same kind of cryopods that the Castle of Lions did, but they had excellent medical facilities. By his reckoning, there was no reason that Krolia should have been dealing with lingering injuries. “Are you alright? Can we get you something to make you more comfortable?”

“No, I’m fine,” she insisted, “I just… refused anything more than triage once Kolivan told me that… that you were here… and not… on Earth.”

“Oh.”

“That’s my fault,” Lance said suddenly.

“ **What?!?!** How do you figure that?” Keith asked, floored by the very idea.

“It is! I was the one that knocked on Blue’s particle barrier-”

“-after **I** found it!”

“And I was the one that flew Blue through that wormhole-”

“-so we weren’t wiped out by that Galra cruiser!”

“Still, I was the only one who could fly Blue and I did, and I’m the reason that any of you are here. So… my fault.” Lance shrugged, his expression sheepish.

“Are you **nuts**??” Keith turned in his seat to stare at Lance, “it’s nobody’s **fault**! I was the one who was drawn to the Blue Lion. Shiro escaped the Galra and crash landed on Earth. Pidge was undercover at the Garrison. Hunk was the one that figured out the pieces I was missing. It took all of us! Exactly us. The five Earthling Paladins that all needed to be in the same spot at the same time. That’s like some kind of cosmic fate mojo at play, Lance! You’ve really been **blaming** yourself for everything that has happened since then? All this time?”

“Not… blaming… not really. Just…” he trailed off with a shrug.

“There was a Galra cruiser?” Krolia interjected, “in Earth’s galaxy?”

“Ummm… yes?” Lance rubbed at an imaginary spot on his jeans, “because Shiro escaped…”

“And you kept the Blue Lion safe from them?” she confirmed, “all of you, together?”

“Yes,” Keith answered, nodding.

“I left… to protect the person I loved the most from Zarkon’s war. You. I was trying to protect you,” she cleared her throat, “I thought I’d never see you again… but you’d be safe. You and your father would be safe on Earth…”

“You left to keep me safe?”

“There were other Galra,” she said in a rush, “I had to… stop them from reporting back… I had to choose. I chose to keep you safe, even if it meant losing you. You were safe. That was what mattered.”

“And I ended up in the war, anyway,” he said, his voice sad.

“I’m so sorry,” Lance breathed.

“No!” she reached out with her uninjured hand to grab Lance’s, “don’t you see? I tried to keep him safe on Earth… but… if Zarkon’s forces had found the Blue Lion… and it sounds like they were about to… it wouldn’t have been safe, at all!”

“Oh…”

“Also! None of this is your fault, Lance!” He insisted, “fate. Mystic magical shit. It all had to happen exactly the way it did… or… none of the rest would have happened… **we** wouldn’t have happened.”

“So… you wouldn’t change things?”

“I mean, some of the specifics suck… but… no. God, no, Lance!”

“It sounds like there were forces at play beyond the obvious,” Krolia said, “but for your part in it, thank-you. Thank-you for the choices that you made that kept the Blue Lion out of Zarkon’s grasp, that kept the Galra’s focus off of Earth, and for keeping my son safe and well-loved when I could not.”

“Ummm… well… that part came later… the whole well-loved thing… that… took a while.”

“Well then… I must admit, I didn’t really come here today to talk about the war. I came to… to see the man my baby boy grew into and learn about him. So… perhaps… you can tell me how **that** happened, and we can talk about all the rest another time?”

“Yeah,” Keith smiled, snuggling into Lance’s side, “I like that idea… and then… maybe you can tell me about… my past? The whole… before you had to leave part?”

Smiling sadly, Krolia nodded, “I’d like that.”

Lance nodded, too, leaning forward conspiratorially as he tightened his grip on Keith. “You don’t know the can of worms you just opened! He’s going to say it started with this imaginary Bonding Moment.”

“Because it did! And it’s **not** imaginary! It happened!” He insisted, “I cradled you in my arms!”

“Nope,” Lance’s eyes glinted with mischief, which was… just… infuriating. Because it told Keith that he was right- Lance **did** remember it. He just wanted to be an ass about it for some reason. “Don’t remember. Didn’t happen!”

Krolia laughed at his antics, and something warm bloomed in Keith’s chest… because he knew Lance remembered, and even though it had taken them years to figure it out, that really **was** how they started, and despite all the bumps and twists and arguments and stumbles, Keith loved their story. He really, really did.

_~~Fini~~_


End file.
